<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>drive you mad by sugarcookiess</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29210751">drive you mad</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarcookiess/pseuds/sugarcookiess'>sugarcookiess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst, Awkward Flirting, Clay | Dream is So Whipped (Video Blogging RPF), Developing Relationship, Drama, Fluff and Crack, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, High School, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Romance, Unrequited Love, but probably not that much, only a little, sapnap is annoying, will add more as i release more chapters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:15:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,953</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29210751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarcookiess/pseuds/sugarcookiess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>that teacher au everyone has been talking about. </p><p>a compilation of connected one shots where the dream team (and friends) are teachers at a high school.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MCYT</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. first time we met (dnf)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>UH I FORGOT GEORGE WAS COLORBLIND IVE NEVER WRITTEN A COLORBLIND CHARACTER UH (ive also only ever written dnf once and it was like focused on dreams pov) suddenly george isnt colorblind anymore guys wooooo<br/>lmao just pretenddddd. btw, this isnt set in any particular order. its just like a bunch of scenarios of them being teachers and shit. and of course, i started it off with some dnf haha. their dynamic is fun to explore!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George let the arguments die on his unused lips, his blood rising in something of anger, confusion, and annoyance. Maybe a hint of disgust, but George would never show it. He may not agree with the underpaying that this job provided him, but he didn't have another job easily lined up for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s degree in computer science aided him in his teachings of the schools elective tech class, something George was passionate about teaching. He always had a great time dealing with Tommy’s outbursts in the middle of their lessons (even if he wouldn’t show it). He was actually pretty efficient when it came to math, excelling in his high school and early college lessons, but of course, the one math subject he didn't know </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit </span>
  </em>
  <span>about was the subject the school board wanted him to teach for the upcoming school year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Budget cuts” is what he had been told when he gathered up a bit of courage to oppose their requests, instantly shutting him up with silent rage. What the fuck even </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>pre calculus? George wasn’t even sure if he had taken a class like that in his many years of schooling (okay, maybe he did, in like his early years of high school, but he was fairly certain he remembered cheating off of his seatmate the entire year).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't even the fact that he wasn't knowledgeable about the subject that he was to be teaching that hurt the most. No, it was the action of cleaning out his classroom that he had shared unforgettable memories in that hurt him in unexplainable ways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It brought him back to the class that they wasted away with Tommy and Tubbo asking him incredibly inappropriate questions, along Alex, (Mr. Quackity as the students knew him) leaving in the middle of teaching his class to join in on the fun. How he knew what was going on was beyond George, but he hadn't dwelled on it for too long when he was far more focused on coming up with witty answers to Tommy’s incredulously personal questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s bag rested on his shoulder as he clutched it closer. All his personal belongings had been thrown around and tossed about, stabbing his heart straight through. It shouldn’t hurt that much, honestly. He’d be back next year, at the latest. It was a temporary switch until they were able to increase their measly budget and afford to hire a new teacher who specialized in pre calculus (or at least someone who wasn't George).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was given only a bit of time to prepare his new classroom and go over the materials he would have to teach. It wouldn't be too complicated to learn this material, since he wasn't terrible when it came to math, but he certainly wasn't the most ecstatic about learning this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, and the location of his new classroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tech classroom was located on the top floor of the building in the corner, giving him a stunning view of the trees and hills lining the blue sky, puffy clouds floating by on a bright day. It was a lovely view and George would always look forward to getting the chance to see it. His new classroom, on the other hand, was a windowless jail cell with absolutely no heating or air conditioning. It would be cold in the wintertime and sweltering hot in the summertime. The worst part was that it was on the bottom floor, meaning it was always crowded with students. It would be loud and unbearable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George unlocked the new classroom, feeling the overwhelming heat flow out of the previously locked room. It hit him like a truck. The reality of the situation was finally setting in and George couldn't think of a single way it could get worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, George! What are you doing here?” The voice was loud, full of excitement and glee. George was certainly not in the same mindset as the familiar voice. He looked up from the books he was pulling out of his bag to see the last person that he had really wanted to see. Mr. Wastaken, or Dream, as most of the other teachers would call him. He wasn't sure where the nickname came from, but George wasn't one to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George had really only interacted with Dream a handful of times, but he had heard plenty about him from his teacher friends. Sapnap and Bad were fairly close with him, to George’s knowledge. Even so, the most that he knew about Dream was that he was incredibly annoying and incredibly attractive. Both of these factors were not ideal, which would just be a new dilemma for George to deal with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took his teaching very seriously, and Dream would be an awful occurrence to have to deal with when he was busy trying to understand the topic he was supposed to be teaching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Budget cuts. I'm apparently teaching pre calculus now,” George said, voice staying monotone as he did his best to stay neutral on his new classroom neighbor. George stared at the door Dream was standing in. His last classroom didn't have an attached door to the next room, considering it was never meant to be a classroom. It was just a backroom of sorts, a large one at that. This new room was tiny and had a connecting classroom. Dream’s classroom, to be exact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not surprising. I’m more surprised that they didn't try and get me to teach it. That’s what they did last year. I was teaching algebra, geometry, and stats,” Dream said, voice exasperated. George chuckled at him, pulling his laptop out of its separate bag and placing it on his desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m assuming they weren't paying you to teach all of those, yeah?” George said, finally looking Dream in the eyes. He never had the chance to get a good look at Dream, despite the obvious of what he could see with a glance. And of course, Sapnap’s constant thirsting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell no! They don't even pay me enough to teach stats. Sometimes I wonder why I still keep this job,” Dream said with a breathy laugh. His eyes crinkled when he laughed and his freckles beautifully lined his cheeks and nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guess he couldn't judge Sapnap for his constant thirsting anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That makes two of us,” George said, fingers tapping the desk in a continuous pattern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't understand cutting electives when I’m sure kids will find much more use in those electives than they ever will knowing about calculus. Tommy constantly talked about your class,” Dream admitted. Tommy was a loud mouth and George expected nothing less from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, probably about the time he and Tubbo asked me an STD was,” George said with an eyeroll. George didn't miss that class one bit. He’s lucky he wasn't fired for the bull shit that went on during that class. </span>
</p><p><span>“What the hell?” Dream said, voice rising in volume. He held a confused expression for a couple moments, before his eyes lit up. “Oh! Was that the time when they asked me what hentai was?”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>George laughed at the way Dream’s voice echoed off the walls of the classroom. He was so glad that there weren't any students in the school yet and the teachers that were present were locked away in their respective classrooms.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and you told him to ask Bad,” George laughed, feeling a wave of comfort hit him as they bantered. Dream was so easy to talk to, which made sense why all of his friends had at the very least acquainted themselves with him.</span>
</p><p><span>“Look, he may be all ‘language you muffin,’” Dream’s Bad impression was spot on, so much so that George would have almost believed that Bad was in the room if he hadn't been looking at Dream as he said it. “But I know for a fact that he watches it! I saw his search history!”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“What? For real?” George asked, his laughter harder than before. Dream nodded his head eagerly. He looked like a puppy, the way his blonde hair bobbed with his head’s movements. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Yes! I swear! It could’ve been like, I don't know, Skeppy trolling because there were some </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting</span>
  </em>
  <span> searches on, but even then… Come on…” Dream said, sending a wink in George’s direction. George simply shook his head. The conversation was ridiculous, sending him back to his adventures in that god forsaken classroom. He truly didn't know what drugs the school was on when giving Tommy and Tubbo identical schedules. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting,” George said, not needing Dream to finish his sentence to infer what Dream was implying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'll leave you to set up, but I'm taking you out for coffee,” Dream said, smirking when George looked over at him again. The flirty expression on his face was telling, but George told himself that he was imagining it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if you’re paying. Coffee is expensive,” George said, typing away at his laptop to get some research done for his first class that was to happen in about a week and a half time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coffee is not expensive. I buy Sapnap and Bad coffee every morning. It’s cheap as shit,” Dream shot back. George had always wondered how Sapnap, someone who always complained about being broke, could afford to get an iced coffee every morning but couldn't afford an uber that one night he got too wasted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then buy me coffee every morning too, if it really isn't that expensive,” George said, sticking out his tongue in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, bet. Four coffees literally isn't even ten dollars dude,” Dream said. George huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ten dollars every day </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>expensive, rich boy,” George teased. Dream rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” Dream scoffed, but his tone was still light and full of excitement as he left the doorway. The door echoed with a loud slam as Dream disappeared into the next room over, no proper farewell as he left. He could hear Dream’s loud laughter from beyond the thin walls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the first week of classes, and George is settling into this new routine just as much as his students. Teaching something he didn't know shit about was putting a toll on him, since he was learning this just as much as his class was. At least he had Tommy to lighten up his mood in the morning, considering he and Tubbo were in his first period class, along with some other students he recognized from his tech class. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream would often crash his class, since he didn't have a class for his first period. It was meant to be a planning period, but like hell Dream would actually do something productive with his time. Instead, he would lurk in the back of the classroom, practically cheering on Tommy’s antics. </span>
</p><p><span>Today, George decided to take a break from lessons, because his brain just could not handle it right now. He passed out an easy worksheet and collapsed at his desk. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. Why was this dumb school so broke? Where did all their fundings go?</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“To the football field. It’s sinking in, by the way,” a voice said from beside him, soft as the words flowed toward him. Dream looked up, seeing Dream holding a tray with four coffees tucked in unsafely (let’s be real. The trays that coffee places use are unsturdy in every way possible). George laughed, because he wouldn't doubt it for a second. He remembered watching the construction on the field last year, but he hadn't heard that it was sinking in. He wouldn't put it past the school with all the dumb decisions they had made in the past.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Of course, just what we needed. A football field for our zero wins team.” It wasn't meant to be any shade to Punz. The guy was an incredible coach. He was able to teach George how to play the game in under thirty minutes. He knew all the basics of the game after that single session, after knowing nothing about the sport since it wasn't one he had ever played anywhere in Europe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sadly, this school’s so-called ‘jocks’ were hopeless at any sport in existence. Punz did the best he could with what he was given.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn't know how you usually get your coffee, so I just got you a regular,” Dream said, lifting the drink out of the full tray, setting the iced drink on his desk, a straw next to it. George smiled, gladly accepting the drink by stabbing the straw through the slot in an instant, lips already finding their way to the straw. The sip felt like heaven, even if it was a tad too sweet for his taste. His eyes closed in a show of bliss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looked up, Dream was staring at him, green eyes soft. The softest he had ever seen them before, and George definitely wasn't complaining. He looked cute, freckles scattered across his flushed cheeks. Endearing, was the only word he could use to describe it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop flirting with Mr. Wastaken! I need help with the problem!” Tubbo shouted, hand reaching the air after he had already said what he needed to put out there. George felt plain embarrassed, but pushed it aside, setting his iced coffee on his desk to make his way to Tubbo. Turned out, he was still on the first problem (George didn't know how to do it either), so they looked it up together. George was so happy that the answer sheet for this worksheet was the first result </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>it had the steps to get to the solution. It meant less work that he didn't understand for him to teach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm going to give Sapnap and Bad their coffee, but I'll be back in ten,” Dream said, balancing the tray in one hand, the other hand tangling its way into George’s hair. George scoffed at him, slapping his hand away, eliciting a giggle from Tubbo and Dream himself. George left Tubbo to copy the answers on the answer sheet with Tommy and sat back down at his desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Dream gone, even if it was only for a bit, the classroom felt empty. Each seat in the room was filled with a student, yet the space beside him was cold and empty. Even in his Tech classroom, he would have Antfrost to come visit him often, since his office paperwork was less than enticing to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sipped his coffee, suddenly dissatisfied. Not with the cold beverage clutched in his hands, because it was a delicious treat and something that George could find himself getting used to, but because Dream wasn't here. Since when had he become dependent on Dream to entertain him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, Mr. Notfound missing Big D?” George spit out his coffee, sputtering at the sudden yell. Normally, he was immune to Tommy’s banter, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>God no, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that word choice was terrible. </span>
</p><p><span>“Tommy, </span><em><span>no</span></em><span>!” George said. “Be quiet and get back to work or else I’ll move your seat.”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>The threat was baseless. George didn't believe in moving students because they were talking too much. It was their problem if they failed the class because they were being disruptive. Besides, he understood that math was boring as shit. Also, Tommy was probably the only other thing besides Dream’s visits that kept him sane in this classroom.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Tell me, how long have you and Mr. Wastaken been together? Don't lie to me,” Tommy said. George knew Tommy was just being his usual, teasing self. He knew better than to believe the two were anything more than coworkers (maybe friends?) but the thought still annoyed him. Maybe annoyed wasn't the best word, but it was the only word he could think of to describe that feeling wrecking his head and stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” George deadpanned. His face held his usual resting face as Tommy burst out into a fit of laughter. Even if the kid was a headache, George honestly wouldn't have this class go any other way. The entire class began snickering, at Tommy’s comment or George’s stern voice, he wasn't completely sure, but it seemed to shut Tommy up for a couple minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was engulfed in the almost silent classroom, minus the sound of pencil on paper, and a few quiet huffs. George relaxed into it for a moment, but the coldness crept up on him. Without a body beside him, the warmth of whoever standing beside him, was unbearable. He was so close to messaging Antfrost to ditch his paperwork again and join him for a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as the class approached its close, nobody had taken the spot beside him. George’s coffee was close to becoming just ice and watered down cream, the taste no longer any hints of coffee in it. He grimaced as his mouth filled with the granulated sugar accumulated at the bottom of the cup, throwing the plastic into the little trash tucked under his desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The students were still silently working on their worksheets and George assumed none of them were going to finish. He didn't blame them, because George probably wouldn't be able to finish it either. Well, all except for Tommy and Tubbo were still working on it, their answers all from the online answer key that George had used to help Tubbo. The two were making paper airplanes out of notebook paper from Tubbo’s book and seeing how far they could throw them. One had made its way onto George’s desk, so he decided to keep it there. Like a memento.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The morning coffee continued. Every morning, Dream would come in with a coffee for him, now with less sugar, as George had supplied him with after the first time. Today, the coffee came a bit later in the day, during George’s lunch period, which he would usually spend with Bad and Sapnap. The three of them gathered in Bad’s office, because it was private, away from all the students, and big for a normal guidance office. </span>
</p><p><span>“Bad, hows-” Sapnap began, but Bad had already leaned over and clasped a hand over his lips before he could continue his sentence. Bad retracted his hand only a few seconds later, wiping it down on Sapnap’s shirt. “That's what you get.”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Sapnap! You muffinhead! That's disgusting, oh my gosh,” Bad said, voice raising as he slapped Sapnap on the shoulder, in a playful manner. Sapnap chuckled, cracking open a bag of chips, tossing them into his mouth. George reached into the bag, stealing a large handful of the chips and dropping them into his mouth. Sapnap made sounds of protest, but he hadn't done anything to stop George. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Fine, George, how are things with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Sapnap’s words came with a teasing tone, but George still sputtered, almost choking on the chips he had been chewing. He swallowed, wondering why Sapnap had suddenly brought Dream up, of all people. “It’s so obvious that you guys like each other. Tommy always yells about how </span>
  <em>
    <span>sus </span>
  </em>
  <span>you guys act in class. Tone it down, dude. This is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>high school</span>
  </em>
  <span>! There are children!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't know what you’re talking about,” George said, not letting his voice waver or his expression change. He would admit, him and Dream were exceptionally close. It wasn't close to the point where they looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>sus</span>
  </em>
  <span> though, in George’s opinion. He thought the way they acted was fine, nothing compared to Bad and Skeppy’s constant flirting. If anyone here should have been getting grilled on this subject it was him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up! You and Karl are always eye fucking each other in the hallways!” George retaliated, catching Sapnap off guard. He jumped in his seat, coffee splashing around in his cup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>do that! Though, I will admit, he is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span> piece of ass. You got me there,” Sapnap said, licking his lips in a joking way. Bad bonked them both on the head, spouting some barely legible protests of ‘language!” George laughed at the display, almost dropping his coffee on the floor, catching it by the sides just below the cover. He swirled it around with his wrist before moving it back to his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, okay, whatever. But you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>undressing him with your eyes! You can't deny that,” George said, making Sapnap shrug. He looked off in the distance, eyes refusing to meet George’s. He laughed even harder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever, George,” Sapnap finally responded with an eye roll. George’s laughs died down and they started to actually eat their lunch, relishing in the relaxing silence. Only for a few moments though, because Bad went to say something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We get it, Bad. You miss Skeppy,” Sapnap teased, poking him on the shoulder. Bad used his shoulder to push him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn't going to say that! I was going to say that Karl told me to tell you to check your messages. Apparently you were being a muffinhead and not answering him,” Bad said, and Sapnap pulled Bad’s coffee out of his hands, standing up from his chair, holding the drink above his head. Bad stood up, staring up at the drink that Sapnap was holding above his head. Bad jumped up to grab the drink, and even though Sapnap didn't have that many inches on him, it was enough that Bad wasn't able to reach the drink he was holding above his head.</span>
</p><p><span>“You both are absolute </span><em><span>muffin heads</span></em><span>!” George couldn't stop laughing as he said it. Bad’s face held a look of annoyance, offended by the mocking. “I'm leaving. My next class is starting soon.”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>George exited the office, sending a greeting to Puffy as she walked past him. She smiled, pointing towards Bad’s office, silently asking if Bad was inside. He nodded and left for the hallway. The guidance office was on the second floor, so George had to go take the stairs to get back to his classroom. He started walking in the empty hallways, most students cooped up in classrooms to be out wandering the halls.</span></p><p>
  <span>“George! Hey!” He instantly recognized Dream’s voice. He whipped around and saw Dream sprinting towards him at full speed. He didn't stop in time because he knocked right into George, sending him flying to the ground. Dream reached his hand down to him, pulling him right up. George had never realized how strong Dream actually was. He wasn't huge, just had defined muscles that showed through his long sleeve shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm sorry, I just…” Dream trailed off, the sudden burst of fatigue hitting him after his sprint. “I ran all the way here from Ant’s office. Just give me a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Antfrost’s office? Oh, God,” George said, imagining the route in his head. He mapped out each and every turn, knowing he wouldn't have even made it a quarter of the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I have to leave and wanted to catch you before I do,” Dream said, leaning against the line of lockers on the wall. “I wanted… to ask you if you want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> get coffee sometime. Like, go sit at a coffee shop, and drink. Coffee.” Dream’s voice was loud, and he was sure anyone in the nearby classrooms heard his outburst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, are you free Saturday morning?” George asked, noticing the way Dream’s eyes crinkled, just like the first time they had a full conversation. His face flushed a bright red, one that brought out the green in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, I definitely am.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. gogy, our savior (gen)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>tommy and tubbo have some questions for mr. notfound</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>omg i posted this on a whim before i went to bed and woke up having to do ten assignments for my drafting class in the span of like 4 hours and when i was done i decided to check on this fic so i can flesh out the next chapter and there were 600 hits and 70 kudos. thats literally insane like ive posted fics on other accs before (not for mcyt) but they never had so much in less than 24 hours. thank you so much you literally dont know how much that means to me. i decided to get right to work on a short filler chap in prep for the next chap. prepare for the feels next time guys haha. </p>
<p>this is based on that video tommy released a couple months ago (its called like 'i asked georgenotfound inappropriate questions") ive watched it so many times its so funny to me. i changed a couple things but it was on purpose okayyy so dont get mad at me. this is kinda like a short, filler one shot. thank you so much &lt;3</p>
<p>OH AND BTW the chaps arent in like chron order. this happens like a whole year before dream and george actually met. george is still in his original tech room &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mr. Notfound! What's an STD?” Tubbo asked, and Tommy could just not stop dying. George didn't even want to turn around, knowing that Tubbo and Tommy would be looking at him with fake pleading eyes. It was obvious Tommy put him up to it, considering this wouldn't be the first time that an incredibly inappropriate conversation had sparked from Tommy’s antics. </p>
<p>Finally, George decided to turn around, staring at Tommy and Tubbo, their computers right next to one another, eyes anywhere but the work they were meant to finish up. They were the only students who weren't done with their work, so George had kept them in the classroom during their study period. He should have known better than to think that they would actually focus on their tech assignments.</p>
<p>It wasn't even that hard of an assignment. It was a simple drafting of a bridge project that they were going to build mini models of in their next week's classes. Regrettably, he let Tommy and Tubbo pair up for that project, not wanting to deal with their pouts of being separated. </p>
<p>Tommy’s laughter continued, resulting in Tubbo falling into a fit of laughter as well. Tommy stood from his chair, letting George get a look at the blank assignment on his screen. Even Tubbo had a couple lines drafted on the program. They didn't look correct anyway, though. </p>
<p>“I… don't know what that is. I have no idea,” George said, finally answering the absurd question Tubbo had suddenly thrown at him. Tommy’s laughter didn't die down, and instead became louder with George’s response.</p>
<p>Tommy coughed from laughing a bit too hard, trying his absolute hardest to calm himself down. He placed a hand on his chest, as if it would somehow help him to hold the laughter in.</p>
<p>“Mr. Notfound, what is contraception?” Tommy asked, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets at this point. George sighed as he relaxed at his desk. He could feel the embarrassment creeping up on him. Only Tommy and Tubbo would come up with whatever this conversation was.</p>
<p>“I don't know. What is contraception?” George asked, not knowing how to play along with this. He didn't want to immediately shut them down, because maybe they would finally get their work done after having a good laugh (no they wouldn’t). Honestly, he couldn't deny that he found this hilarious either. He had become a bit bored having to watch the two goof around and ignore the mass amounts of work that they had let to start.</p>
<p>“Well, that's why we’re asking you! Tubbo and I are just two teenagers and the school systems here in this <em> awful </em> country don't teach us shit about these things,” Tommy said, and George couldn't agree more with his second statement. The American school system was pretty terrible. </p>
<p>“Hey, George, I have that folder you needed me to get from Ant,” Bad said, making the knocking useless as he had already walked into the classroom. George reached over to grab the folder from Bad, sending him a smile and quick nod. He could feel Tommy and Tubbo’s eyes on them, hoping for Bad to leave as fast as he could. Who knew what Tommy would say-</p>
<p>“Mr. Halo, how do I know if I'm a virgin?” Tommy asked, his eyes showing no sign of faltering. His question held a serious tone, somehow. Even Tubbo couldn't keep a straight face at the question Tommy had proposed. George held his head in his hands, folder resting on his desk with the papers slipping out. He would need to reorganize that later.</p>
<p>Bad’s head shot up, no longer staring at George and now staring at the two students ignoring their drafting work. He blinked, once, twice, and then a third time. He looked back from Tommy and Tubbo to look at George, but George wouldn't look up to face him. </p>
<p>“Bye, George. I'll see you later,” Bad said, disappearing from the classroom almost as fast as he had appeared. Tommy’s laughter resurfaced, his eyes screwing shut from his overdramatic outburst. Tubbo’s laughter got even louder, the sounds of their outburst syncing up.</p>
<p>“Tubbo, Tubbo, come here,” Tommy said, motioning for Tubbo to come close so he could whisper something to him. George ignored it, assuming their little bit was over with and he could sort out the papers that needed to be sorted. Antfrost needed the folder by the end of the day and George was nowhere near done with filling out all the paperwork that he was meant to add. He was just about as productive as Tommy and Tubbo.</p>
<p>“Mr. Notfound! Mr. Notfound!” Tommy shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to better project his shouts. George ignored him, barely hearing him because of his experience in tuning him out. He was far too focused on writing information down on the first of many sheets he had to fill out. “Mr. Notfound! You didn't answer Tubbo’s question! What's an STD?”<br/>George sighed. Apparently, it wasn't over.</p>
<p>“I told you, I don't know. Would you like me to google it for you?” George said, finding disinterest in the paperwork on his desk. He moved to his computer, debating if he should actually type it in and find some funny acronym, but realized that the school would be able to see his search history. He opted for his phone, opening up a private browser on it to type in “STD.”</p>
<p>“George! Why did Bad come to my classroom and start complaining about how Tommy and Tubbo are “muffin heads?” Alex said, standing in the open doorway of George’s classroom. Tommy and Tubbo’s head shot in the direction of his voice, eyes widening when they saw Alex standing there. In Alex’s defense, he was a favorite teacher among many students. He was funny, his class was chill, and he was always teaching the kids Spanish swear words. </p>
<p>“Big Q, we’re trying to as Mr. Notfound here what an STD is. Do you know?” Tubbo asked, snickering as he asked him. Alex walked into the classroom, almost doubling over in laughter after hearing the question.</p>
<p>“You know, Tubbo, I actually don't. George, could you explain to the class what an STD is?” Alex asked, class referring to the only other three people in the room. George should have expected this from Alex. Didn't he have a class to be teaching though? “Don't worry, Bad’s keeping an eye on my class.”<br/>Apparently Alex was a mind reader. </p>
<p>“Yeah and how do I get an STD?” Tommy asked, head turning to Alex, stroking the nonexistent beard on his face.</p>
<p>“Wait, do you think it’s like a Pokemon? Can you catch them and trade them with each other?” Tubbo asked, voice rising in excitement. Tommy shouted some nonsense, George completely ignoring whatever they were going on about. He continued to search for an <em> appropriate </em>acronym to give as an answer. </p>
<p>“Mr. Notfound, how many STDs do you have?” Tubbo asked, Tommy and Alex cracking up from the innocent way he had asked the question. George continued to ignore it.</p>
<p>“It’s a super technological device,” George said, flipping his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. He was glad Alex had closed the door as he entered, because even if his classroom was tucked away in the back of the top floor, he couldn't risk anyone hearing this dreadful conversation and snitching on them. </p>
<p>“Wait! This means I have a bunch of STDs! I’ve got so many STDs at home!” Alex said. Tommy still couldn't stop cracking up. George played along with it.</p>
<p>“Yeah, it said it was computers and such. Or it could be AIDS, which is an audio inspired device system. So, speakers, perhaps?” George said, spouting off what he had read on the page he had been looking at before he put his phone away. Now, Tubbo had started to crack up again, both the teenagers hanging onto each other to keep from falling over. Alex just continued talking.</p>
<p>“I have AIDS too, then!” he said, and Tommy couldn't keep himself off of the floor any longer. Tubbo came crashing down with him, practically rolling on the dirty floors of the classroom. Tommy moved over to whisper something in Tubbo’s ear again, and Tubbo’s face scrunched up as he tried to stop himself from falling into a fit of laughter again. They both straightened out as Alex continued on his rant.</p>
<p>“Mr. Notfound, what is sex?” Tubbo asked. Alex cracked, falling into hysterics at the way Tubbo had asked him. </p>
<p>“Oh, um, I'm not sure about that one. Just don't google it, please,” George said, praying that Tommy wouldn't look it up on the school owned computers. He started praying too late though, as Tommy had already began typing away in the search bar.</p>
<p>“No, don't worry, I'll look it up. Through images though. I'm a visual learner,” Tommy said, pressing the search bar and tapping the ‘images’ tab. George looked away, trying to come up with an excuse that he could use if the school board came to him about the search history on one of the student computers. Tommy shouted, so George looked back, but ended up seeing a black screen on Tommy’s monitor.</p>
<p>“Tubbo! Please, my eyes!” Tommy screamed, his eyes wide and full of fear. Tubbo reached down and grabbed his water bottle sitting beside his bag on the floor. He untwisted the cap and threw the contents at Tommy’s face, water splashing onto his face and soaking his hair. Since Alex was beside Tommy, he had also been in range of the water, getting the side of his jacket dripping wet.</p>
<p>“Hey, this is a new jacket!” Alex said, but he didn't actually seem upset with them. Alex pulled at the wet spot on his jacket, but ignored it. “Anyway, George, you must have a lot of STDs.”<br/>George was doing his best to not laugh. It was terribly hard, though. This conversation was the oddest one he had ever had with anyone. Every time he talked to Tommy and Tubbo, though, the conversation was weirder than the last one.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you must be packing!” Tubbo said. George just blinked as fast as he could, eyes almost tearing up from how hard he was trying not to laugh. He didn't think he could take much more of this conversation. He so desperately wanted the bell to ring so Tubbo and Tommy could leave him be and he could finish the boring paperwork he needed to get done.</p>
<p>Tubbo began spouting sounds of confusion, while Alex and Tommy couldn't stop their outbursts of laughter. George stood from his chair, ready to walk towards the door. Tommy and Tubbo would be fine if he left them here with Alex (no, they really wouldn't).</p>
<p>George hadn't looked up from the ground, so when he bumped into something, he had simply assumed it was a wall. He looked up, backing away from what he though was a wall, but was instead a tall man in a neon hoodie. It took George a moment to decipher who this was, but he had remembered Sapnap and Bad telling him about their friend “Dream” who taught stats on the first floor.</p>
<p>“Dream! What are you doing here?” Alex asked, his laughter finally dying down as Tommy explained to Tubbo what was wrong with what he had said. </p>
<p>“Bad said you ditched your class and made him keep an eye on them. They’re all shouting Spanish swears at him,” Dream said, the smile he was trying so hard to hide coming out. He cleared his throat, smile disappearing again.</p>
<p>“I taught them well,” Alex said. His face displayed how obviously proud he was. Alex didn't seem to take Dream’s statement as a sign to head back to his students, making himself comfortable by lifting himself up onto the table, sitting with his feet hanging off the side.</p>
<p>“Yeah, whatever, he just told me to come get you. Said you’d probably be here,” Dream said, though he wasn't looking at Alex as he said it. George could feel his eyes on him, and George simply assumed that he was just trying to figure out who he was. They had never had a conversation before. George had only seen him a couple times in the hallways and heard a bit about him from Sapnap and Bad.</p>
<p>“Actually, before I go back, I have a quick question,” Alex said, a smirk rising on his lips. George wanted to get out of there as fast as possible before they brought more people into whatever the hell was going on in this classroom. Dream raised an eyebrow at him, glancing to the clock.</p>
<p>“Sure, what is it?” he asked, leaning up against the doorway of the classroom. Alex halted his laughter, placing a hand over his mouth before he spoke.</p>
<p>“Do you know what hentai is?” Dream’s mouth hung open when he heard the sentence. He looked over at George, as if he could say something that would help him, but George sighed. Tommy’s face was bright red from trying to hold himself back and Tubbo had resorted to keeping his head down on the table.</p>
<p>“You might wanna ask Ba- uh, Mr. Halo that question. He knows what it is,” Dream said, and George finally cracked, chuckling at Dream’s response. </p>
<p>“Okay, that's enough for today! I can't do this anymore,” Alex said in between his constant state of laughter. George thanked the heavens for this finally being over. The bell rang, just on time, and Tommy and Tubbo stumbled out of the classroom, computers still empty. George would have to call them back in tomorrow to even get them to look at their work. Alex followed them out, presumably to save Bad from the troubles that his class was causing him. Dream still stood in the doorway of George’s classroom.</p>
<p>“Do I even want to ask what happened here?” he said. George shook his head, unable to even get a word out. He left the classroom and decided that he would take his lunch break with Sapnap in the gym today. </p>
<p>“Oh, hey George! What's up? You never come here for lunch? We usually go to your classroom when Bad isn't available,” Sapnap said, lifting his water bottle to his lips, the liquid disappearing down his throat. George shrugged, desperately wanting to get out of having to explain what went down in his classroom. “I have a class soon, by the way. I'm just gonna have them play some basketball though, so we can still talk.”<br/>George wasn't ecstatic about being around more teenagers, but he figured it was fine as long as Tommy and Tubbo weren't going to be around. He didn't know when Sapnap had them for gym but it couldn't possibly be right now. </p>
<p>George had thought too soon, because as he was settling down on the bleachers with his lunch, he saw Tommy and Tubbo bolt into the gym, Tommy behind Tubbo, chasing him and crashing him to the gym floor in a tackle. He groaned, trying to hide, even though he was out in the open. All they had to do was look up and they would see him-</p>
<p>“Mr. Notfound! We have some more questions for you!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>feels in the next one shot guys im working hard on it. its gonna be a long one compared to this short chap! im already like four pages in and IN LOVE with it!! it is about my favorite pairing tho so oops. i wont say who but there are only two other pairings i havent written about soooo take your pick i guess haha</p>
<p>i have a couple ideas for chapters but if you guys have any ideas im completely open for requests! i cant promise ill write it but if i do really like it and it inspires me who knows?</p>
<p>also the MANHUNT AHHHH insane absolutely INSANE! no spoilers but its literally a must watch it was so good.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. don't laugh (i'm serious) (skephalo)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>jealousboyhalo makes a bet with puffy. it doesnt end in the way he expected it to.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>skephalo is such a comfort ship for me you dont understand. these two literally make me so happy. im so happy that i was curious enough to try and figure out who skeppy was that i watched some of his videos. i have bad to thank for constantly talking about him LMAO mans lives rent free in his head. i also have missing assignmetns because i spent all my time writing this please appreciate me &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bad narrowed his eyes at the scene. He’d never admit to jealousy, because it 100% was not jealousy. Skeppy could talk to whoever he wanted and it really didn't matter to Bad. Not at all. Even if it did make his heart sting a little as he watched his face light up with laughter as her hand rested on his shoulder. His smile was perfect as he locked eyes with her, staring down at her in the way he usually looked at him. </p><p>Again, he was not jealous.</p><p>“I bet she’ll ask him out within the next week. Don't they look so cute together?” Puffy said, giggling as she subtly pointed in the direction of Skeppy and the female teacher standing too close together. Why was she standing that close to him? Only Bad was supposed to stand that close to Skeppy. Skeppy could not have been comfortable with someone other than Bad standing with no distance between them. They were practically on top of one another in the hallway. This wasn't okay with Bad. But, seriously, he was not jealous.</p><p>“No! Skeppy wouldn't go on a date with her. He wouldn't do that…” <em> To me </em> is what bad wanted to say, but he didn't. It didn't matter if Skeppy went on a date with someone. They were still best friends. Skeppy wouldn't suddenly forget about him because he was talking to someone. Especially because he was talking to a girl. Nobody would mean more to Skeppy than him, was what he would tell himself.</p><p>“What do you mean? Look at the way he's looking at her!” Puffy whisper-yelled. Bad saw it. He saw the way his eyes softened as he looked at her. He felt sick to his stomach. This was just a gross feeling, one that shouldn't have been feeling. What would Skeppy think if he knew? Wouldn't he think that he was weird for feeling this way? Skeppy was allowed to have other friends. And he certainly was allowed to be in relationships.</p><p>Whether Bad liked it or not. </p><p>“It doesn't matter. Skeppy still wouldn't say yes if she asked him out,” he said, voice falling as he watched Skeppy’s hand reach for her hair. Bad’s heart felt like it was being crumpled up like a piece of paper, and then stepped on, over and over again. Skeppy only did that with him. He was a touchy person in general, Bad knew that. Even with his other friends, but that was <em> their </em>thing. </p><p>Bad hid his pout, because Puffy didn't need to know that he was thinking such gross thoughts. He was a counselor, for heaven's sake. He would tell people multiple times a week that jealousy was a gross feeling. That trust was something to value in a relationship. But, Bad and Skeppy weren't in a relationship, Bad rationed. </p><p>No matter how hard he tried, Bad couldn't tear his gaze away from the two. He watched as the girl twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, watched Skeppy’s hand fall from her long hair back to her shoulder, and watched the way her eyes shut as she laughed at everything Skeppy seemed to be saying. </p><p>“Bad? Are you listening? I said we should make a bet! I'm so confident that one of them will ask the other out within the next two weeks,” Puffy said, tapping bad on the shoulder. He stared down at the shorter counselor who was holding a small notebook in her hands. She opened the book up, pulling a pencil out of her pocket and jotting something down on the page. “If they do start going out, I want you to buy me a week's worth of mac n cheese. You didn't buy me any last week even when you said you would!”<br/>Bad hummed, barely listening. He heard what she had proposed, but he was scared. Not about buying Puffy mac n cheese. He would do that anyway. What if Skeppy really did start going out with someone? He wouldn't forget about Bad. He could never. Their years of friendship went beyond the bonds of normal friendship. The late nights they would spend on calls meant everything to Bad. <em>Skeppy </em>meant everything to Bad. He knew Skeppy felt the same, but he couldn't stop the thoughts rushing in head telling him otherwise.</p><p>“Uh, yeah sure. I don't think they’ll go out, though. If they do, Skeppy is a complete <em> muffin head </em>!” Bad said, trying his best to steady his voice. Puffy didn't need to know about his worries of Skeppy forgetting about him just because he had someone else in his life. Logically, he knew that it wouldn't happen, but he still couldn't help but let the thought slither its way into his head. It swirled around, taunting him.</p><p>“What do you want if I'm wrong? Not that it will happen, because I'm not wrong,” Puffy said, voice smug. Her face showed no sign of fear, the confidence seeping out of her words as she shifted her eyes back to Skeppy and the girl. Bad had to stop himself from looking. He truly didn't want to deal with looking at it any longer. </p><p>He wasn't jealous. He would keep telling himself this and maybe it would actually be true.</p><p>“I don't know, <em> discount Skeppy </em>, what do I want you to do?” Bad said. He rolled his eyes, because he really didn't want anything. What would he even need? Skeppy to stop talking to this girl and come talk to him instead? Puffy couldn't do anything about that. </p><p>Bad didn't know who Skeppy was talking to, but she was exceptionally pretty. She looked great next to Skeppy. Skeppy was really attractive, so he would need someone who was also really attractive that could even attempt to suit him well. Bad didn't think anyone could really be as attractive as Skeppy though. </p><p>“Not this again, Bad. You miss Skeppy so much you need to be <em> discount Skeppy </em>, again?” Puffy’s question came out as more of a laugh. Bad remembered the time that Puffy had worn a blue sweater to work, similar to the color of Skeppy’s favorite hoodie, which spawned the “discount Skeppy” joke. Bad wouldn't deny that maybe he had missed Skeppy a little bit, too.</p><p>Skeppy’s favorite hoodie was also Bad’s favorite hoodie. It was the one Bad had bought him for his birthday a couple years ago. He remembered Skeppy wouldn't take it off for weeks. Whenever he thought of Skeppy, he thought of Skeppy in that hoodie that Bad never regretted buying for him. Not even for a second. If he could go back, he would give Skeppy that hoodie a million times over just to see the way his face lit up again and again. </p><p>“Actually, yeah. You should cosplay Skeppy if I win, which I will.” <em> Because Skeppy wouldn't go out with anyone else </em>. Bad shook the thought away. He had to engrave into his brain that he couldn't stop Skeppy from liking who he liked. It wasn't up to him, no matter how much he knew he wouldn't like it. </p><p>Bad wouldn't admit it out loud. He just wanted Skeppy to look at him and no one else. Just them, like they were in a world alone together. </p><p>A place like that sounded like heaven to Bad.</p><p>“Cosplay Skeppy? That's what you want?” Puffy asked, the disbelief showing through her tone. Bad didn't have any other ideas, because he really didn't want anything besides Skeppy. </p><p>“I do,” Antfrost’s voice said from beside Bad. He turned and saw him walking towards them. The man took his place beside Bad, joining in on their conversations of betting about on what the loser would have to do. Bad stared as Antfrost’s hand found its spot on Bad’s upper back, rubbing circles. Antfrost had been his friend for so long, even longer than he had been friends with Skeppy. He could always tell when he was upset or tense and always knew how to comfort him in the best ways possible.</p><p>Bad smiled, the first time he was able to after having to see Skeppy flirt with someone that wasn't him. Antfrost didn't remove his hand, even when Bad had obviously started to feel less tense.</p><p>“What is it?” Puffy asked, unphases with the sudden touchiness between the two that had arised. Bad may not have been a physically affectionate person like Skeppy, but he was more than okay with Antfrost’s methods of cheering him up. It always seemed to work. He just had a calming presence that he carried around with him. </p><p>“Cat maid Skeppy. Bad would<em> love </em>that,” Antfrost said.</p><p>Suddenly, Bad took back every nice thing he had ever said about Antfrost. Puffy burst into a fit of giggles. Bad glared at Antfrost, debating on whether he should give him a bonk on the head or simply call him a muffin head, but he ended up just freezing up. This caused Antfrost to start laughing too.</p><p>“Cat got your tongue, Bad? You would like it, wouldn't you?” he asked, and Bad’s face felt hot. He wouldn't like it. He wouldn't care. Why would he care? Even if the thought of seeing Skeppy in a maid dress with cat ears was an interesting one, it wasn't something he had ever even thought to consider. </p><p>It did sound like something Antfrost would suggest, so he couldn't act surprised. </p><p>“No, why would I want Puffy to dress up as ‘cat maid Skeppy?’ That's ridiculous, Ant!” Bad said, though he did entertain the thought for a minute, before letting it vanish in the depths of his mind. He wasn't going to let it go any farther than that. <br/>“It's a deal,” Puffy said, no hesitation in her voice. Bad hadn't even been given the time to debate it. He simply sputtered up some sounds that didn't form any coherent words. Puffy took his hand and shook it in a forceful handshake to seal the bet. Bad wasn't going to deny it, but he would’ve liked to talk it out a bit more. </p><p>Puffy walked away before he could get anything else out, Antfrost following behind her. The bell rang, signaling for Bad to get back to his office in case someone came by in need of counseling, but he didn't stop thinking about their bet and Skeppy talking to one of the female teachers. </p><p>Questions arose in his head, such as how long had they known each other? Did Skeppy like her? Why had he never mentioned her to Bad? Maybe he had and Bad just didn't recognize her? He didn't get a good look at her face, just a quick glimpse since she was facing away from them most of the time, but from what he saw, she was pretty. Bad wouldn't deny that at the very least. He actually would've preferred it if the girl Skeppy was talking to wasn't pretty, because then maybe he wouldn't have to deal with Skeppy possibly being with someone else.</p><p>Bad had to stop feeling selfish over Skeppy. Skeppy was his best friend and he wouldn't want to risk their many years of friendship just because he was a little upset that Skeppy was possibly gaining feelings for someone that wasn't Bad.</p><p>Skeppy didn't need to have romantic feelings for Bad, and honestly, Bad didn't really want him to. If Skeppy was to ever have feelings for him, it could easily break down their supposedly unbreakable bond as friends. Bad’s feelings for Skeppy should’ve been more than enough feelings for the both of them. Even if it didn't feel that way now, it would be if he just convinced himself of it. </p><p>It wasn't like he ever had any plans to try anything further than friendship with Skeppy. He had made it obvious where his attraction lied and it certainly wasn't with Bad. Bad had accepted that a long time ago, so he tried not to think too hard about it. In the end, it wasn't that important anyway. Keeping this beautiful relationship he had with Skeppy meant more to him than finally being able to be with Skeppy in the ways he had dreamed about. </p><p>Bad stalked off to his office, never fully being able to push Skeppy out of his thoughts. He wanted to go see him, but he knew he had a class. He really didn't want to intrude on it either, because Karl would be there and he didn't need to be teased about ‘missing Skeppy.’ He just wasn't in the correct mindset to deal with whatever jokes would be thrown at him. </p><p>“Bad!” It was Skeppy’s voice. He would recognize it any day. </p><p>Bad turned around, finding himself in an empty hallway, beginning to frown, because maybe he had just been imagining it. He turned back to head into his office, when he felt a pressure on his back. He toppled over a bit, but was able to balance himself out by catching himself on the wall beside them. Skeppy’s gleeful laughter rang in his ears, causing Bad to melt at just the sound of it. </p><p>He could just hear Alex shouting “simpboyhalo” at him. </p><p>“I missed you, Bad. We have to hang out soon,” Skeppy says, jumping off of Bad’s back. Bad motioned for Skeppy to follow him into his office, yearning for some privacy. Puffy had already made it back to her office, which was right next to his, and he didn't need Puffy's eyes on them as they talked. It would just remind him of their bet they had made. Bad didn't want to think about it right now.</p><p>“I… missed you too, Skeppy,” Bad said, smiling as Skeppy sat down in the chair across from his desk.</p><p>“Let’s get dinner tonight,” Skeppy said, pulling out his phone. Bad rolled his eyes at him. He knew Skeppy was supposed to be helping out Karl with their film class, but Skeppy didn't seem all too concerned with that at the moment. “This new restaurant opened up and I heard from Niki that the food there is amazing!”<br/><em>Niki?</em> Bad felt confused. Skeppy had never mentioned someone named Niki before. Skeppy told Bad about all of his friends. He knew all of them, even if he had never conversed with them before. He knew their life stories because Skeppy should only have the best friends he could. Not that Bad would ever disapprove of who Skeppy was friends with, but he just wanted to make sure that they were treating him well. </p><p>Bad knew that it wasn't his business, but his overprotective side would always come out when it came to Skeppy. It was just part of the package of falling in love with your best friend, he assumed.</p><p>“Uh, who’s Niki?” he asked, clicking a pen between his fingers. He would approve of whoever Skeppy was friends with and whoever Skeppy was dating, but he just didn't know who this <em> Niki </em> person was. Was she nice? Was she pretty? Was she a perfect fit for Skeppy?</p><p>“Oh! She's the art teacher! Ms. Nihachu! She's such a sweet person,” Skeppy said, the smile on his lips somehow getting bigger. He looked so happy when he talked about her. Bad would just be happy if Skeppy was happy. Truly. </p><p>“The art teacher? I see,” Bad said, nodding along as Skeppy explained more about who Niki was. She was an amazing artist and a wonderful friend. She was always looking out for other people and considerate of others feelings. She sounded absolutely perfect. Bad could only be happy that Skeppy found someone that would make him happy.</p><p>That night, Bad listened to Skeppy talk about how sweet of a person Niki was, doing his best to be a supportive friend.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Bad didn't have any right to be mad at Puffy. And he wasn't actually mad at her. He loved Puffy. She was one of the most caring people Bad had met in his life and he wouldn't change it for the world. But it still didn't mean he wasn't a little upset that Puffy would constantly bring up the bet between the two of them. </p><p>He had finally put two and two together by realizing that this mystery woman that Skeppy was talking to in the hallway was Niki, the sweetheart that Skeppy wouldn't shut up about. He would come up to him and Puffy and talk nonstop about how much of an amazing person she was. Bad couldn't deny that he was a bit sick of it, but he just liked to be able to listen to Skeppy talk. </p><p>“See, I'm getting that mac n cheese, Bad! Better get your wallet ready!” Puffy exclaimed and Bad could practically see stars in her eyes. Bad sighed, because he was prepared to buy Puffy her mac n cheese when she did win, but he just really needed some time away from hearing about Skeppy and Niki. <br/>He got it. She was the sweetest person ever and Skeppy was head over heels for her. He was happy for him, but he just didn't want to think about it any more. </p><p>“Niki is very pretty. Her and Skeppy would make a nice couple,” Puffy said, using her hand as an armrest. Bad was sitting in Puffy’s office, watching as she neglected the paperwork she needed to be filling out. It was after school hours, so there were barely any students in the school. It made for a relaxing atmosphere, without all the yelling from teenagers rampaging the hallways. </p><p>“She is pretty,” Bad said, but his voice was uninterested. He was tired. He didn't sleep well last night, staying up on call with Skeppy until the early hours of dawn, watching the sunset and rise without a wink of sleep. His eyes were heavy and the bags under them present to anyone who even took a quick glance at him. </p><p>“She's <em>gorgeous</em>! Skeppy’s a lucky guy!” Puffy continued on. Bad needed her to stop talking about it. He was trying to be a supportive friend and so far he thought he was doing good, but it still hurt when he had these feelings he was trying to bury deep down inside. “I'm actually jealous of him. Niki is so stunning <em>and </em>she's sweet!”<br/>Bad took a deep breath. He could keep calm. He wasn't angry or sad, just... annoyed. It was the only word he could use once again to describe this pitiful feeling. Jealousy was a pain in the… muffin. A toxic pain in the ‘muffin’ at that. </p><p>“Tell me she isn't <em>perfect</em>, Bad-”<br/>“Puffy! Please, <em>just stop</em>,” Bad pleaded, not letting his voice falter. He couldn't let it be shown that this annoyed him <em>that </em>much. Though lashing out at Puffy was definitely a clear sign he was annoyed for some apparent reason. Bad curled in on himself in his seat. </p><p>This had been the topic of conversation for a week straight. Even Sapnap and George had been bothering him about it. They didn't know that he liked Skeppy in that way so he didn't blame them for bringing it up so much, but he couldn't deny that it hurt him in ways he couldn't describe. It’s not like these years' worth of feelings that he had built up for Skeppy would simply go away just because Skeppy liked someone else and Bad was supportive of it.</p><p>“Bad… are you okay?” Puffy asked, her eyes wide after hearing Bad’s voice raise. Bad knew he didn't get angry easily. It took a lot for him to lash out at anything. He prided himself on being a calm and collected person. Someone who didn't get mad easily and didn't let things get to him. But this did get to him and it wasn't something that he could just ignore. </p><p>“Yeah, I'm <em> fine </em>. But I really don't wanna talk about Skeppy and Niki right now. I don't wanna think about it,” Bad said. He felt like he was putting all of his thoughts on display. Puffy wasn't stupid. She was a counselor too and she could read him like an open book. No matter how much he could claim to be fine, she would know that something was up and she wouldn't let it go.</p><p>“I'm always here for you if you need to talk to someone, Bad,” Puffy said. Bad knew she was trying not to push him over the edge any further by offering and not pushing at the subject. He felt a bit more relaxed now after letting his emotions take over for a bit. He sighed, pulling his feet up on the chair, clutching them against his chest. Puffy was just trying to be helpful, but he just felt so tiny under her gaze. </p><p>How could he possibly feel small next to Puffy, at the extremely small height of 5’2”?</p><p>He felt safe in her office. The practically empty school and her air conditioned office was a nice change of pace from the typical loudness of their school and the crowded, hot hallways. Her facial features softened as she waited patiently for Bad to answer. God, why was Puffy so <em> nice </em>? How could he have lashed out on someone with such a big heart?</p><p>“I… really don't wanna say. I just… it’s for me to deal with,” Bad said, exasperated. Was he really going to let Puffy in on this secret that he had held so close to him for such a long time? He trusted her. She was literally a guidance counselor. He didn't have a reason to distrust her.</p><p>“And that's okay. Everything takes time and people move at their own pace. Whether you want to talk about it or not, I just want you to feel comfortable,” Puffy said, looking at Bad with a soft gaze. Bad took a deep breath. He guessed it was now or never.</p><p>“I really need you to keep this to yourself. This is a really big deal to me, okay?” Bad said, pleading to Puffy with puppy dog eyes. Puffy simply nodded, pretending to zip up her lips and throw away a fake key. Bad chuckled a little at the display.</p><p>“I was upset because you kept bringing up Skeppy and Niki because I don't <em> like </em>that Skeppy likes her,” Bad admitted. He hated jealousy. He always thought it was an ugly emotion. It was completely unnecessary when there was trust in a relationship. But Skeppy and Bad weren't in a relationship, so there didn't need to be that kind of trust there.</p><p>Puffy didn't make any move to talk, letting Bad lead the conversation to where he was comfortable with. Her silence just encouraged him to speak more. </p><p>“I… like Skeppy. A lot. And I know Skeppy likes me a lot, too! It’s just that our likes are different kinds of likes. He likes me as a friend… and I… I like him as something a little more,” Bad said. He had never been able to say these things out loud. It felt there was a huge weight being lifted off of him. He had never felt so light before now. The only time that could compare to the feather light feeling he felt was the time that he and Skeppy had come first place in that gaming tournament a couple years back. Bad may have let a couple things slip that he hadn't meant to let out. His own words rang in his head.</p><p>
  <em> Skeppy I would kiss you right now! </em>
</p><p>He cringed at his own words. How could he have said that aloud? It wasn't the weirdest thing he had ever said that was directed towards Skeppy, but it was definitely one of the ones he regretted saying the most. Luckily for him, Skeppy had been too engrossed in staring at the leaderboards to acknowledge his yelling.</p><p>Puffy seemed at a loss for words, something he had never seen before. Puffy always knew what to say, but right now, she sat with a blank expression on her face. She seemed too scared to show her true feelings on the thoughts, possibly in fear of scaring him away because of a mishap. </p><p>“I love him, Puffy, but he likes Niki. He doesn't like <em> me </em>.” Bad just felt unmotivated by his own words. He was letting it get to his head after trying so hard to accept it this past week. </p><p>“I'm… so sorry Bad. I feel terrible for all the things I said,” Puffy said, after a long pause of silence on both ends. Bad shook his head.</p><p>“It’s not your fault. It’s just true, Puffy. He doesn't like… well, <em> guys </em>,” Bad said. He had never wanted to admit that out loud. He hated knowing that it was true. He couldn't change someone and the way that they felt. Bad accepted that a long time ago, but it somehow still made his chest feel like it was being stabbed open.</p><p>“I really wish there was <em> anything </em> that I could do, but that's just not something I can help you with,” Puffy said. Bad wasn't expecting her to help him, because it was true. There wasn't anything that he could do about it. It’s just who Skeppy was.</p><p>“I know. I'm working on accepting it,” Bad said, hiding his face in his knees. He couldn't dare look at Puffy when he felt so humiliated. She felt bad for him and Bad had already felt bad enough for himself. He didn't need anyone else to pity him because he fell in love with his straight best friend. “Niki is an amazing girl. Skeppy deserves someone like her.”</p><p>Puffy didn't say anything else to him. She just got up and stood by his side, grabbing his hand and clutching it tightly in her own. It was the closest to comfort he would be receiving, so Bad just accepted it. It was the thought that counted, even if he would rather have Skeppy holding his hand so tightly.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Bad had been cornered in the large room of the auditorium. Karl’s film class had taken place here, as they were filming something and were using the stage for it. Skeppy had been there also, since he was Karl’s assistant after all. It was a bit surprising that Skeppy had shown up at all, especially on time. </p><p>Bad had joined to help Karl set up a bit, but the class was long over and now he was tucked away in the corner of the stage, Skeppy leaning against the wall beside him. He was practically cornered. He couldn't just walk away and leave Skeppy, because Skeppy was his friend and he obviously wanted to talk about something with him. He just stayed silent though. It was a bit scarier than actually having to talk with Skeppy about whatever he wanted to talk about.</p><p>“Skeppy, just spit it out already. I wanna go home,” Bad said. He really didn't want to go home. He just wanted to get out of here. He just didn't want to look at Skeppy right now. He had to watch him and Niki talk the entire class period, because she had just been ‘passing by.’ Puffy, who was in the audience to observe the film, was sending him the biggest smiles she could in attempts to cheer him up.</p><p>It didn't help, but he appreciated the effort she had put in for him.</p><p>“I just need a minute!” Skeppy shouted, his loud voice coming out for the first time in a while. Skeppy hadn't been as out there as he usually was for the past couple days. It was completely out of character for him, but Bad just assumed something was on his mind. Bad elbowed him, a bit annoyed with the way Skeppy had been acting. He wanted his usual Skeppy back.</p><p>The sound of something hitting the floor caught Bad’s attention. His eyes shot towards the object, finding a small velvet case resting on the floor by their feet. Bad couldn't take his eyes off of it. It just couldn't be true. It couldn't be what he knew it was. He didn't want to admit to himself.</p><p>Hadn't they just met? He couldn't possibly be rushing this thing with Niki this fast. Bad wasn't one to cry over a guy, even if it was Skeppy, but he actually felt like crying. He had never cried over his feelings for Skeppy. He wasn't really the type to cry over feelings he had for other people (even if he was an empathetic guy and sometimes he got really into his head about things) but this was Skeppy. Skeppy, his best friend, who he couldn't bear to lose to someone else. Skeppy, who had a ring case in his pockets that was obviously meant for someone.</p><p>“Fuck, Bad, you ruined it. It was meant to be a surprise,” Skeppy said, crouching down to pick up the fallen case. Bad’s eyes felt tight. He knew he wouldn't cry, but he sure felt like it. Bad couldn't even gather the strength to say ‘language’ to him. </p><p>“Is it… for Niki? I know you like her, a lot,” Bad whispered, and God he didn't want to have this conversation. He didn't want to talk about this, but Skeppy had opened the door for it the second the ring case was revealed. </p><p>Skeppy was still crouched down, and the look he sent Bad was something he would never forget. He blinked, over and over again, his face contorting into something of pure confusion. “Niki? What are you on about Bad?”<br/>Bad was beginning to feel frustrated. He couldn't believe Skeppy was going to pull this now. Of all times he could pull this, he chose now. </p><p>“You obviously like her, Skeppy! I get it, but just be honest with me,” Bad said. He decided to crouch down beside Skeppy. He wanted to be as close as he could to Skeppy without it feeling awkward.</p><p>“Bad… are you jealous? Have you been jealous this whole time… because I've been hanging out with Niki?” Skeppy asked. The look on his face just made Bad feel embarrassed. It was so obvious how often Skeppy spent time with her and talked about her.</p><p>“No! It’s okay that you like her! I just want to hear it from you.” <em> Maybe if he heard it from him, he could finally get the idea that Skeppy would never like him through his skull </em>. </p><p>“Bad… I don't like Niki like that,” Skeppy said, his face turning red as he said it. It had to be a lie. “It’s really cute though. That you’re all jealous over it. You overthink too much, Bad.”</p><p>Bad huffed. Skeppy was lying. He was trying to make him feel better. It was the only answer to whatever the heck this was. <br/>“Skeppy… Stop teasing,” Bad said, dragging out the syllables. He was just embarrassing himself now. “You literally got her a <em>ring</em>! How can you deny that you like her?”<br/>Skeppy started laughing now. Why wasn't he taking him seriously? It was actually quite offensive, if he was honest. It just felt plain rude that Skeppy was <em>laughing </em>at him. </p><p>“Bad, oh my God. You’re so cute,” Skeppy said. Bad blushed at that. Skeppy was a muffin head sometimes and Bad fell for it every time. He would fall for it over and over again until he endlessly fell into a pit of his own feelings for him. “This ring isn't for Niki. Niki doesn't even like me.”<br/>“What are you talking about?” Bad asked. Bad refused to believe it. It just couldn't be the truth. He wouldn't stop talking Niki to him.</p><p>“Niki likes <em> Puffy </em>! Niki asked me to help get in a good word for her, and you and Puffy are close, so I figured if I talked about her to you, you would talk about her with Puffy. I didn't think you would get jealous about it, though,” Skeppy said with a snicker. Bad whined, slapping Skeppy on the shoulder. God, Skeppy really was a muffin head. He was still having trouble believing it, but Skeppy wouldn't lie to him about something like that.</p><p>“But what about the ring? If it's not for Niki, then who’s it for?” Bad asked, eyeing down the velvet case held tightly in Skeppy’s hands. Skeppy sighed, pulling the top open. A silver band was revealed, securely stuffed inside of the case. Bad didn't see anything crazy about the design of the ring, throwing out the fact that it was an engagement ring (thank goodness). <br/>Skeppy pulled the ring out of the case, handing it to Bad to let him get a closer look at it. Bad held it between his fingers, holding it up to look at the inside of the ring. He blinked, unable to help the large smile finding its way to his face. Engraved on the inside of the silver band read ‘skeppy &lt;3 bbh.’ His own smiling was too much for himself to handle. He felt like a giddy school girl being asked out by her crush. </p><p>“It’s… for me? You got me a ring?” Bad asked, pointing his finger, as if to ask if it was okay to put on. Skeppy nodded, hiding part of his face with the light blue hoodie that Bad died a little inside every time he saw him wear it. </p><p>“It’s a friendship ring! I love you so much Bad!” Skeppy said, hiding his face in the sweater paws he had from the hoodie. Bad pulled his own sleeves to hide his face. The ring in his hand was cold and longing to be put on his finger. Skeppy took the ring from his grasp, moving towards Bad’s ring finger. The tint of red on his cheeks became darker as the ring rested on his finger. No one but them would see what was actually on it.</p><p>It was theirs and theirs alone.</p><p>Bad wanted to stay here with Skeppy forever, but that couldn't happen. He knew it couldn't, but it didn't mean he would fantasize about it. He wanted a little world with just him and Skeppy. No one else to interrupt their bliss. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“I lost? Oh my goodness, do I actually have to dress up as cat maid Skeppy? Ant was just joking, right?” Puffy asked, hiding her face in her hands. Bad laughed, playing with the silver band on his finger. Puffy had noticed it the next time they saw each other, but she didn't say anything about it. She just knew and Bad was happy that she respected him enough not to pry.</p><p>“I'll get Antfrost to send you some links,” Bad said, his laughter growing louder as Puffy hid in shame at the things that awaited her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>whenever i'm thinking of scenarios for skephalo i always have skeppy as the one pining for bad. like he realized his feelings first. but i decided to pull the reverse card on this one. it was fun to challenge myself and do something different from what i normally think of! very happy with how it worked out too! thought of the ring thing last minute and i legit couldn't get it out of my head. they would totally do something like that irl and it would be completely normal for them istg. i did say skephalo is my comfort ship and i really wasn't exaggerating. they literally make me so happy. whenever im sad i just watch a random vid/compilation of them it makes me smile</p><p>ooh and what do you guys think about niki and puffy?? haha i also thought of that last minute and i couldnt resist adding it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. talk (karlnap)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>it's george and dream's turn to make a bet and karl and sapnap don't talk</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ive been so unmoticated so im sorry if this isnt good. idk ive just been spending time gaming with my friends. ooh one of my friends recently started getting into dream smp and stuff and she loves dnf LMAo i think its really funny its so like us to get into a fandom and just become obsessed with ships. dreams stream today makes me want to write like an agent au or a detective au. i have a plot set up for both of them in my head (like a basic outline) but i cant do two fics at once. i will probably plan it out and then write it once i figure out some more prompts for this fic. hopefully either a gen or dnf chapter next please enjoy and dont flame me for how BAD this is. I always just go full ANGST because idk how to write anything else.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Dream, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>making a bet with you. Look at Puffy! She lost to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>! To Bad!” George shouted, pointing to the poor girl who was practically sobbing from laughter as she scrolled through something on her phone. Presumably Amazon so she could pick out things to buy for her ‘cat maid Skeppy’ cosplay she was being forced to do. At least Bad seemed excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, if he wanted to see Skeppy in a maid dress, then he could probably just ask him. George didn't know what the fuck was going on with whatever they have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, are you scared? Worried that you’ll lose?” Dream said, ruffling George’s hair. George elbowed him, always having been a bit annoyed with Dream’s couple inches of height on him (okay, it was a bit more than a couple). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I'm worried for you. Karl and Sapnap are too stupid to actually start dating,” George said, watching the two boys run down the hallway, Sapnap close to getting tackled into the lockers by Karl. Karl eventually caught up to him, pulling him back up against the lockers, standing side by side. The way they gazed into each other's eyes was something far from platonic, but George’s point still stood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were almost as oblivious as Bad and Skeppy, and that was a hard feat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's where you’re wrong. I have zero faith in them, but I know for a fact that they absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>each other. I would bet my life savings on them dating soon,” Dream said. George scoffed, watching as the two stared at each other with the most adoring of looks, but seconds later fell into a fit of laughter against the wall of lockers. There was no way in hell that Karl and Sapnap would start dating any time soon. George was confident of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn't mean they’ll ask each other out. Maybe eventually, but not for a while,” George said. Maybe at some point in the future, Karl or Sapnap would realize their feelings or, well, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was plain annoying to watch. Even Dream and George himself could actually do something about their feelings (nothing official, but at least they weren't dancing around each other in the oblivious way main protagonists in shows and books do).</span>
</p><p><span>“No, I have faith in Sapnap. Him and I have been friends for a while now and he knows how to talk to girls.”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Well, Karl isn't a girl, Dream. I don't think that will help him,” George said, watching the rough way the two full grown adults rough housed in the hallways. Dream shrugged.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Well it can't be much different, right?” Dream said. George would call bullshit on that, because he knew how terrible Dream was with talking to girls. He remembered the time he talked to Niki for the first time, and even though it was just a normal conversation, he was horribly awkward. At least he was slightly better when he was talking to George for the first time, but he didn't think it was a fair comparison. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that's what you need to tell yourself. I'm still not making a bet on it, though,” George said. In the first place, there wasn't anything that George wanted from Dream. What could he possibly put on the line that he would want from him anyway?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just scared. Admit it,” Dream said. George just knew he was tempting him. He knew how to get to George’s competitive side, jabbing at him with baseless taunts. George sighed. He shouldn't let it get to him, but Dream just knew him too well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, fine. I'll make a bet with you if it’ll make you </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut up</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” George started to brainstorm, because he genuinely didn't need anything from Dream. There wasn't anything he wanted him to do either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah. You’re gonna be so embarrassed after you lose!” Dream said, throwing his hand out for George to shake his hand. George reached back, grasping Dream’s hand with his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but what do you have to do when you lose?” George replied, smirking when he saw the confident look on Dream’s face. He didn't even falter at the sly comment. A smirk made its way onto Dream’s face, and though George was a bit nervous of what Dream would come up with, he was confident in his instincts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want your mother’s number,” Dream said. George raised an eyebrow. It was an absurd request. He sort of understood it. They had talked about meeting each other's families before, since their relationship was beginning to become a bit more serious, but it would take a bit more preparation for Dream to meet his parents. They were all the way in the UK, so it wasn't like they could take a quick drive to their house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why?” George said, laughing as Dream continued to roughly shake his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I can text her. I'll give you my mom’s number if I somehow lose. I won’t, obviously,” Dream said. George didn't actually have any objections to the offer, so he nodded, and shook Dream’s hand back with the same amount of force Dream had put in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to regret this,” George said, attention falling back onto Karl and Sapnap as they ran down the hallway, </span>
  <em>
    <span>holding hands</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Yeah, George had this one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your relationship with Karl?” Bad had asked him this question before, and last time, Sapnap had responded with a massive amount of sass. He didn't understand why the comment got to him so much, because the amount of times their friends had made jokes about their closeness was insane and it never got to him. This time though, Sapnap couldn't even think of an original witty response to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream and George hadn't joined them for lunch today, opting instead for a lunch date outside of the school. Sapnap still went to Bad’s office like he usually did and they talked about nonsense and life like normal. But Bad didn't seem to want to continue their nonsense conversations and instead wanted to bring up something more serious and confusing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean? We’re friends?” Sapnap said, though he knew by the way his voice cracked that he wasn't all too confident. He ignored it, opting to pick at his fingers, finding it more interesting that whatever conversation Bad wanted to start up with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you muffin. I'm serious. We’re friends and I want you to be able to talk about your feelings,” Bad said. Sapnap still didn't look up. What was he supposed to say? That he didn't know what their relationship was? That he didn't even understand how he felt? It was too embarrassing to talk about with Bad, even if they had known each other for so long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want me to say? That we’re not friends? Karl’s my… friend. I don't think there's anything else to it,” Sapnap said, knowing that he wasn't the best liar out there. It was exactly hard to trick Bad, knowing from all the pranks that Sapnap would watch unfold on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he really didn't want Bad to catch on, he could’ve made his lie a bit more believable, but Sapnap wouldn't deny that talking about his feelings might help him. He couldn't even figure his own feelings out, and Bad had a degree with stuff like this, right? It couldn't hurt to let him in on these things clogging his emotions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it's obvious something is going on with you guys, Sapnap. Whether you want to admit it or not,” Bad said, leaning back in his desk chair. Sapnap just shrugged. How could he even explain himself when he didn't fully get it either. Did his feelings even matter? He liked things the way that they were with Karl and changing it would just seem counterproductive. Karl could just shut him out if he realized that Sapnap’s feelings were a bit more confusing than just that of ‘friends.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk, Bad. What about you and Skeppy, huh?” Sapnap said, in between wanting to lighten the mood and also be honest about his own feelings. Bad was an older brother figure to him. Sapnap felt like he could share anything with him and it would be okay. Bad wouldn't judge him and he always listened to what Sapnap had to say. He didn't have a reason not to tell him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn't about me, Sapnap,” Bad said, and it wasn't the response Sapnap was expecting to receive. He expected Bad to get flustered and tell him off for bringing up Skeppy, like he normally would. They would laugh it off and move on to a subject that didn't hold so much meaning and secrets behind it. Or they would just make fun of George. They would do anything besides talk about what was actually on their minds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. I don't know, Bad. I don't know what to tell you,” Sapnap began. How could he put it into words? Sapnap wasn't as stupid as he acted sometimes. Yeah, he was prideful and stubborn, but he could at least admit when something wasn't right. Usually, he was able to figure out what was wrong, but he just didn't know. Karl meant more to him than anyone he had ever met before and it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>scary</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap had dated many people before, never having been too particular about gender or anything. It just simply didn't matter to him because when he liked someone, he liked them and that was just it. Whatever he was feeling with Karl wasn't something he had ever felt previously. It was nothing he had felt before with any of his previous partners. Whatever this was felt like a fire was bursting inside of him, spreading through his entire body and lighting him up in an eternal flame. His body felt like it was on fire every time Karl so much as poked him. Just that tiny touch was enough to make him erupt in flames. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karl was just straight up perfect and Sapnap hated it and loved it at the same time (he could never hate Karl, though. Just how perfect he was).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karl just… god he makes me feel so alive. He makes me feel like I’m burning,” Sapnap said, having to stop himself from going on, because he could. He could go on for days about the ways that Karl made him feel. He could rant about the passion burning in him every time he saw Karl, the way his laugh made him feel on cloud nine, and the way he melted every time he touched him. Sapnap cleared his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you ever consider telling Karl about your feelings?” Bad said. What would Sapnap even tell him? “Oh, every time I’m around you I feel like I’m on fire and I don't really know what it means.” That didn't sound like a very good way of confessing these feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s scary, Bad. How am I supposed to tell him that I feel this way about him? If I lost what we have because my feelings for him are a bit stronger than friendship, I don't think I could forgive myself,” Sapnap rambled, eyes falling shut. He couldn't even look at Bad right now. He knew that he would be looking at him with these soft eyes, ones that showed the mass amounts of honesty in. The honesty of his feelings and concern for him as a friend was definitely showing and Sapnap just couldn't look at him to accept it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then you can take things slow. Work on what you guys have together and make sure you’re both comfortable with it,” Bad said as Sapnap heard him leave his chair. His footsteps came closer to Sapnap and a hand rested on his shoulder. Sapnap sighed, opening his eyes up again to see Bad standing beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take it slow? How do I take it slow when our relationship is already so fucking weird?” Sapnap complained. Their relationship was already on a weird, thin, line between friends and something more, so Sapnap didn't understand what was normal in a friendship and what wasn't. How could he take something slow when he didn't truly understand what the line between friendship and their relationship was? And what if Karl didn't want the ‘more’ that he wanted?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk to him!” Bad said, his voice rising in excitement to rid of the solemn atmosphere around them. Sapnap rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says you, Bad. None of us fucking talk to each other. We never talk about anything,” Sapnap said, rubbing his palm across his face. He didn't talk either, so he couldn't complain about everyone else never talking, but it was just true. None of them ever talked about their feelings, especially Sapnap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Dream and George seem to be doing alright. They talk to each other, right?” Bad said, and Sapnap shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but do they actually talk about it? Sure, they go on dates and they act all couply, but you know they won't talk about doing anything more,” Sapnap said. It had been so long since the two had met and started doing whatever they were doing, and nothing had really changed. They still wouldn't talk about it. Everyone did everything but talk and Sapnap just-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then change that. You be the one to actually talk about your feelings,” Bad said. Sapnap really didn't want to. He had too much pride to get all sappy about how he felt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bad was right, and Sapnap had too much pride to admit that too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was two weeks later when the conversation Sapnap had with Bad had resurfaced to his mind. He was sitting with Karl on the bleachers of the outdoor, sinking, field. The sky was dark and the only light was coming from the dim light posts lining the sides of the fence. The football game was long over, their team having continued their loss streak, presenting the pure incompetence that was shown at every other game they had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap usually showed up to support Punz, but Karl never really went to the games. He wasn't particularly interested in football and didn't understand most of the rules anyway. Sapnap usually watched with Dream, both of them letting their inner football fanboy out, even if it was just high school football. The games were still exhilarating to watch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream was long gone, having left with George over twenty minutes ago to go on another date and not talk about what they were actually doing. They would probably talk about everything besides </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>their relationship was and Sapnap would bet money on it. At least they talked more than him and Karl did and Skeppy and Bad did. They had something together while him and Karl just had nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were sitting in silence, neither of them speaking up. It had been over ten minutes of deafening silence. Sapnap could just feel himself sinking into his seat, watching as Karl stared at something on his phone. It kept vibrating and Sapnap felt anxious, wondering when either of them would start talking. Would Karl initiate the conversation or would Sapnap finally do something about how they never talked?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karl,” Sapnap began, feeling the rush of determination and how it instantly crumbled the second Karl looked away from his phone. He looked over at him, their practically identical heights making it so Sapnap was looking right into Karl’s eyes. Even with the shitty posture Karl was displaying, they were still eye locked, both refusing to look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Karl asked, finally using his voice when Sapnap would continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap furrowed his eyebrows. What words was he supposed to use? How would he talk to Karl in a way that showed he wanted more but also didn't want to overstep any boundaries?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap did the only thing he knew he could do. He grabbed Karl’s hand, moving his fingers to intertwine with Karl’s. Karl smiled at him, copying the movement. Sapnap felt calm with Karl’s hand in his, close enough that he could feel Karl’s presence beside him but far enough away that he wasn't crossing over any lines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had held hands befores. Many times before, actually. So many times that it really shouldn't be much of a big deal. But this time it just felt different. It felt more real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap, you owe me dinner,” Karl said, laughing into the sleeve of his purple sweater. Sapnap blinked, the bliss of the moment fading away when he tried to figure out how Karl had come to this conclusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when?” Sapnap said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since right now. I'm hungry,” Karl said, still laughing into his sleeve. Sapnap wouldn't say no to Karl. He was also hungry, but it was more because he just wanted to spend time with Karl anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After sitting on the bleachers for longer than needed, they finally stood up, hand and hand, and walked out of the field. There wasn't anyone left around. No teachers or students. The parking lot was empty, the only car was Karl’s, who had driven both of them to watch the game (even if Karl probably didn't want to watch the game, he still came with him). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Sapnap got to the passenger seat, hand no longer feeling the warmth that was Karl’s hand, he melted. They still didn't talk, and Sapnap wasn't sure when they ever would talk, but at least there was something there. Sapnap didn't feel like he was the only feeling that there was something there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still wouldn't talk about it, though.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. can't drink without thinking about you (dnf)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>george and dream have to chaperone a school dance.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>uhh okay before you read please read this. theres actually no underage drinking (like its REFERENCED but like not actually done by any of the characters) actually in this BUT i just wanna point out you probably shouldnt spike the drinks at a high school dance. thats illegal and its not safe, but no one was actually harmed due to this prank in this fic. its was an elaborate school prank done by everyone so everyone was in on it. except the teachers i just wanted to make this clear because after i started writing it idk it felt WEIRD and idk thats probably not a good idea. this is fiction just remember :)</p>
<p>another thing is ive been working on this fic for like a month or so and its already 1/4 the size of my longest fic ever (pages wise and wordcount in google docs) and idk how i feel about that because that fic, even though it was unfinished, took me almost a year to write. like oh my god.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Even in his high school years, George had never been a big fan of school dances. What was the point of prom? Maybe he was just biased because he never had anyone to go to a school dance with, but he didn't see the point in them anyway. Who wanted to spend more time at school than necessary while dancing in a room full of sweaty teenagers? He didn't see the appeal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George was well over the age of attending school dances. At least as a student, that is. He didn't typically like spending his time at the school dances hosted by </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>school. With them being broke and having no idea how to host functioning events, it wasn't a pastime that George would normally indulge in. He would hear about the dances from Bad, since he often helped out with them, but they didn't sound very grand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were always hosted in the gym, and although the gym was a pretty decent sized venue, he couldn't help but imagine that it would feel small and cramped with everyone crowded in there. He just cringed at the thought of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad’s… sick?” George repeated, staring blankly at Dream. He didn't actually know Dream was a part of the “planning” team for the dances. He only knew Bad and Antfrost helped out with them. Dream seemed like the last person who would help out with a high school dance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, and I can't find anyone who’ll take his spot. Karl and Sapnap just keep saying ‘any askers?’ every time I ask them for help,” Dream said with an eye roll. George wasn't ecstatic about spending a Saturday evening in a school gym, watching over a bunch of awkward teenagers as they did whatever one did at a school dance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't know, Dream… That just sounds…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boring. I know, but I really need help. Skeppy’s with Bad right now and Antfrost has some anniversary thing so we’re really short staffed,” Dream said, eyes pleading with George. His face was somewhat comical, with big eyes and a quivering lip. It was cute, in a weird way, and George could honestly use the excuse to hang out with Dream some more. There had been a round of exams that needed grading and this dance was a break for the students just as much as it was for the teachers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That still didn't mean that he wanted to spend his Saturday evening at school, babysitting a bunch of teenagers. He’d rather spend time with Dream along, huddled up on one of their couches with take out and a shitty movie playing. It sounds like a perfect evening for him and the only way that it could be better was if it was a reality. But it wasn't. Because Dream wanted him to spend his Saturday evening in a sweaty gym with loud pop music blaring over the speakers. Now that just sounds like hell to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm, fine,” George said, watching as Dream’s face lights up in excitement. George, personally, wouldn't be excited about spending more time than needed at work, but maybe Dream enjoyed spending his free time looking after children (he definitely didn't but he didn't want to get his hopes up that Dream possibly wanted to spend time with him too).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'll pick you up then. I'll show you what you have to do,” Dream said. George didn't understand what he even needed to know. Didn't he just need to make sure that nobody got hurt? It was a school dance. It really couldn't be that big of a deal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>George had spoken too soon. The music was bursting his eardrums and the room smelled of sweat and fruit punch. It felt like death in this room and he wanted out. </span><span><br/></span> <span>Truthfully, if two individuals weren't present, the dance would have gone swimmingly. Everyone else was pretty sane, not too rowdy and not too loud. It would've been good, if Tommy and Tubbo hadn't been causing a ruckus. </span></p>
<p><span>Tommy and Tubbo were up at the DJ booth, requesting for a song to be played next. The songs they were suggesting weren't exactly something George wanted to listen too. In fact, it was giving him a massive headache. He didn't even know the name of the song and he didn't want to either. He was starting to tune it out, until Tommy was at his side, Tubbo attached to him by the hood of his sweatshirt. He was dragged along with him as he ran to George’s side. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“Mr. Notfound? I didn't know you went to school dances?” Tommy said, voice barely audible over the bass shaking the ground. Tommy had a cup of punch in his hand from one of the long tables placed in the corner of the gym. Students were crowded around, gathering treats and drinks, while the station was ‘closely’ attended by Alex and Techno. It mostly seemed like Alex was distracting Techno with some bizarre story, something not out of the ordinary for Alex. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm filling in,” George answered simply, glancing around for Dream, who had ditched him a while back to attend to other matters. He couldn't find him, not even amongst the teenagers that were far shorter than Dream’s 6’3” stature.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“For Mr. Halo? Is that why he isn't here? God damn it, Tubbo and I have been planning this prank for weeks-”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Tommy!” Dream’s voice finally found its way to George’s ears. He jumped a bit at the sudden tone, full of seething rage and anger. George, though, was more confused than anything. Dream had just poofed into the room out of nowhere and the first thing he did was yell at Tommy. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Wastaken, my man! How’s it going?” Tommy’s voice went high, the pitch increasing to pitches that George didn't know Tommy’s voice could go to. Tubbo stood behind Tommy, doing his best to hide from the glare Dream was sending them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream had a cup of punch in his hand, one that George could only presume was from the table that Alex and Techno were standing at. When George looked at the station again, though, Alex was standing on his chair now, shouting out something that George couldn't hear with the large distance between them. George raised an eyebrow at the sight, eyes then moving to Techno, who just looked tired and annoyed. That didn't seem to be anything new, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When George turned back to the conversation going on beside him, he noticed that Dream’s cup was empty and his words were coming out a bit slurred. Now, George was even more confused. Tommy and Tubbo were snickering as they were chewed out by Dream.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“How much fucking alcohol did you put in this shit?” Dream shouted, pointing to the cup in his hand. George’s mouth curved into an ‘o’ shape, the realization finally hitting him as Tommy and Tubbo’s snickers turned into full on laughs. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“Hey, hey, you can't be </span><em><span>swearing</span></em><span> at students, Mr. Wastaken!” Tommy said in between his cries of laughter.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Who says we were the ones that spiked the punch?” Tubbo said, crossing his head and shaking his head. Dream groaned into his hands, turning to George in search of some help, but George wasn't sure what he could offer him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Half the kids in here are probably drunk off their asses! How much fucking alcohol did you guys use?” Dream’s voice sounded exasperated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn't us!” Tubbo said, but his laughs said otherwise, both of them practically dying on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dream, are you drunk?” George asked, knowing he was asking the obvious. Dream turned to look at him, and even though Dream outwardly looked fine, George liked to think he could read him pretty well. To him, it was pretty obvious that Dream wanted to get out of here. He was annoyed and uncomfortable, certainly not in the mood to deal with Tommy and Tubbo’s antics today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream</span>
  </em>
  <span>, why are you drinking on the job!” Tommy said, his own cup of punch in hand. Tommy seemed fine, so George could only assume the drink wasn't spiked like the one that Dream had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, you can't call me that… Do you realize how </span>
  <em>
    <span>illegal</span>
  </em>
  <span> this is? You could get in serious trouble for this,” Dream said, voice full of concern and worry. Tommy didn't seem all too concerned, more interested in sipping the fruit punch in his cup, humming as his cup came back empty after a long sip. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“It’s fine. The entire grade was in on it,” Tubbo said, smiling over at George with his own unspiked drink clutched in his hands. George blinked, just thinking about how they managed to get an entire grade in on some prank. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“</span><em><span>What?</span></em><span>” Dream yelled. Tubbo nodded, not understanding why his statement seemed so outlandish. Tommy hummed in agreement, though it was barely heard because of the loud, wordless music playing through the speakers. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“It was one of our biggest pranks yet!” Tubbo said in excitement, earning himself an elbow in the side from Tommy. Tubbo elbowed him back, but Tommy took off before Tubbo could hit him, causing a chase to start in the middle of the gym. Tommy ran into one of the students, falling on his back on the hard floor. Tubbo went tumbling down right after, tripping over Tommy’s leg and falling onto his stomach right beside Tommy. They both erupted into a fit of giggles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George sighed, losing sight of them after a group of students blocked his view. A weight fell on George’s side, the heavy weight causing him to stumble, but he caught himself and the weight on him. George looked up at Dream, noticing the sleepiness in his eyes. George huffed, unsure of how to deal with a drunk Dream. Sure, they had gotten drinks together a couple times, but Dream knew how to handle his alcohol pretty well. George had yet to see him drunk before now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you need me to bring you home?” George asked. Dream nodded. He was practically asleep on George’s shoulder, letting out small sighs. He wasn't sure how Dream seemed so relaxed with the flashing lights and bass that was shaking the ground beneath them</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm gonna let someone know we’re leaving, okay?” George said, bring Dream over to stand by the gym exit. Dream nodded, leaning up against the doorframe, eyes falling shut as he drifted off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George made his way to the table where Techno and Alex were, watching as Techno gave Alex a judging stare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm taking Dream home,” George said, Alex completely ignoring his statements as he focused on pouring new cups to set out. George could only assume that it was a second round of punch that wasn't spiked, but George knew they would find a way to put more alcohol in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Taking him home?” Techno said with a glance. George wasn't in the mood to explain himself, not needing to deal with the constant teasing that would come from it. George waved him off with his hand and started to head off, but Alex finally looked up from pouring drinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? You’re ditching us? I can't handle all these children!” Alex shouted. George shrugged, refusing to turn around because he knew he would get two pleading stares from Alex and Techno. George sent Puffy over to aid the two before he went and found Dream. He was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed and hair dripping over his eyes. The sight was simply endearing and it made George realize how hard and fast he fell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, Dream. Let’s go home,” George said, taking Dream by the hand. Dream looked up, hair still falling in his face. George smiled at the cute sight, dragging him behind him to take Dream to his car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ride was short, George knowing the fastest route to Dream’s apartment after traveling there many times. Dream was zoning out in the passenger's seat, hand extended across to rest on George’s thigh in a small gesture of affection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ride came to an end and George parked in Dream’s parking spot. He knew the number of his spot, number 37. The engine came to a stop and the car went dim, eyes adjusting to the almost pitch black in the unlit parking garage. Dream was asleep by his side, hand still on his thigh, grip loose and he would be able to easily pull away if he needed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did need to, but it didn't mean that he wanted to. He was content with Dream by his side and the little close contact. With a sigh, George pushed through the car door, closing it with a quiet slam. He walked to the other side of the car, letting himself admire Dream’s peaceful expression while it was possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tapped Dream’s shoulder, waiting from him to stir from his slumber. He easily awoke, eyes fluttering open as they adjusted to the close pitch black of the car and parking garage. Dream made a soft noise, one that sounded pleasant to George’s ears, as he slowly removed himself from the seat. George was no longer looking down at Dream as he shot up beside him, putting their inches of height back between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can sleep when we get upstairs,” George said, smiling even if he knew Dream was unable to see it in the darkness. George could only see the silhouette of Dream’s figure beside him and the awfully large amount of difference in height between them. Dream was so close that he could feel the way he shifted on George’s right. His hand grasped onto George’s, sending a small jolt of electricity through his entire body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not tired,” Dream muttered as his grip became increasingly tighter on George’s hand. George shook his head, sensing that lie from a mile away. Dream took the lead, bringing them towards the door to the staircase. Dream’s apartment didn't have an elevator for whatever reason, so they had to go up several flights of stairs to reach his room. George had gotten used to it by now, but it was still a treacherous walk for someone as out of shape as himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream pulled the keys out of his pocket, shoving them into the lock. The door creaked open with a turn of the knob, and George pushed himself past Dream, now leading Dream behind him. The lights illuminated the room, the dullness no longer filling his vision. Dream headed off for the couch, falling face first into one of the throw pillows messily pillowed on top. The cushions sank with the sudden weight Dream had put on them. His hair fell over his forehead, only his eyes visible above the pillow he was hiding the rest of his face in. George felt his heart jump at the sight, practically beating out of his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come lay down with me,” Dream said, turning so he was resting on his back. The pillow that was previously covering half of his face was now being used to prop up his head. George raised an eyebrow. There wasn't any room left on the couch, Dream taking up a good portion of it because of his height. Dream seemed to sense his confusion and patted the spot right in between his legs. George glared him down, watching the way his lips curved into a sly smirk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George wasn't going to say no, though. He would pass up the opportunity to be close to Dream. George grabbed two water bottles from the fridge and walked towards Dream with an extended hand. Dream made grabby hands at the water bottle, setting it on the stand by the arm of the couch. George felt a tug on his arm, his body stumbling forward as Dream attempted to pull him down to lay down beside him. George laughed, waiting for Dream to make room for him in between his legs. Dream moved his leg, letting George slip into his grasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way that Dream’s arms wrapped around him filled his entire body with warmth. He felt the rush, the excitement and all that came with Dream’s touch. It brought his mind back to his school career and the rush he had back then. Rushes that came from running off with whoever his fling was at the time. This time, though, it was different. This rush was far more intense and real. It made his head spin and made his thoughts jumbled. It did things to him that George didn't know was possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The intense rush continued, even when Dream fell asleep with his arms tucked securely around George’s waist. They rested there, unmoving with no intention of leaving. The heat from his body set George off with a rush that couldn't even be compared to adrenaline rushes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, I like you so much, Dream. What the fuck did you do to me?” George muttered, knowing Dream wouldn't be able to hear him in his deep sleep. Even though he wasn't conscious, Dream’s grip on him tightened, and that was enough of an answer for George.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i simp for people really easily but like dude im such a fucking skeppy simp LMAO. but not in the way you think. im literally gay. i like women. he just makes me so HAPPY and i smile whenever i hear his voice. like hes genuinely such a comfort for me idk what it is. my brother made fun of me for watching him tho which was kinda lame but its fine. i cant wait to buy merch and wear it anyway because idc his opinions suck anyway LMAO. thank you for listening to my rant haha. hope you enjoyed the dnf i love this chapter the end was so sweet!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. no doctor can help when i'm lovesick (skephalo)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>bad gets sick and skeppy tries to take care of him</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>someone recommended this in the comments and even though i had no plan going into this i came up with this along the way hdjfhjhdfhjdf i just couldnt help it it sounded so cute and fluffy and i just was in a mood and fluff was exactly what i felt like writing with a little bit of feelings because i gotta get some progression going. also, on skeppy's stream he confirmed that him and bad are the same height and lowkey when i first started watching them and heard them argue over it, i lowkey guessed that they were probably the same height anyway lmaooo. like one of them is probably a centimeter shorter but like i think its so funny that they argue about this all the time and this entire time theyre the same height. but this also means theyre both shorter than george and quackity and idk how i feel about that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Skeppy felt like he could pass out at any second. He spent his sleepless night slaved over the counter mixing together ingredients he had never thought he would touch in his life, trying his best to find out what worked and what didn't in the concoction he had in mind. He had never thought that making a fresh batch of chocolate chip muffins would cost him an entire nights sleep, but he certainly didn't regret it. His back might hurt from the terrible posture and his arms might be sore because he didn't have a mixer available, but the product that came from it was satisfactory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fresh muffins were still steaming, tucked safely in a container that would help conserve the freshness so he could deliver them. It made him proud. The sight of the fresh, steaming muffins that were a product of his hard work and determination and the place they were going to made his heart do flips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way Bad would smile after receiving the gift would be worth being called a simp by all of their friends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy had expected to see Bad in the morning, hoping to get the muffins off of his hands so he could go and nap during his free period. And maybe during some of the periods he was actually supposed to be working during. Karl wouldn't mind (he definitely would mind, as he had expressed many times).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face had fallen when he could spot him roaming about the hallways. Skeppy’s eyes instead were drawn to Alex and George standing by the doorframe of Alex’s law classroom. He expected to see Bad there, but he wasn't standing beside the two of them, and he wasn't chatting with Dream and Sapnap either. He squinted his eyes, analyzing the hallways that began to flood with students as the bell rang, signalling that first period was about to begin and everyone should head off to their respective classrooms. Skeppy’s mind wasn't on his teaching duties. He was only focused on finding Bad amongst the crowd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy stumbled his way over to Alex and George, bumping into student after student as they rushed past him. He mumbled continuous apologies as they passed, keeping the container tucked in his arms to avoid dropping it. George and Alex gazes moved onto him, both of them staring at the container of muffins steaming up the container. Alex raised an eyebrow and Skeppy already knew what was to come.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gift for your boyfriend?” George asked, snickering as they both eyed the container down. Skeppy just rolled his eyes. They both got it on the daily and, personally, Skeppy didn't really understand it. There was nothing weird about the closeness of their friendship, in Skeppy’s eyes. He had just grown used to the comments from their friends.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Have you seen him? I thought Bad would be with you guys,” Skeppy said, looking around the hallways once again since they had cleared out a bit with the influx of students entering their classrooms. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“No, haven't heard from him today. Puffy asked me about him earlier,” Alex said, shrugging his shoulders. His attention went back to his phone, fingers typing away at the screen. Skeppy sighed, turning to go ask Dream and Sapnap, but he didn't have to walk to them. The two men had appeared behind him, both mocking Skeppy with just the way they stood over him. He huffed, because being shorter than people like Alex and George already felt embarrassing but the difference in height between him and Dream was just as embarrassing. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad’s sick,” Sapnap said, staring down at Skeppy the muffins that Skeppy had become increasingly worried about the state of the muffins (and Bad of course, but the muffins). He wanted them to be warm and fresh when he handed them over to Bad. He wanted to hear the praise he would receive from Bad, telling him how happy he was and how much he appreciated it. He just wanted to hear Bad be happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bad had just been awkward around him ever since the situation with Niki. Skeppy would admit that maybe he went a little overboard, but the way Niki had told him about her feelings for Puffy had really spoken to him. His heart fluttered when Niki described the emotions she felt around Puffy. She really poured her heart out to him and Skeppy couldn't let her honesty go to waste.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy glanced at the ring on his finger. He had shown it to Bad after giving him his own, the ring an identical one of the one he had gifted Bad that day. He refused to take it off, loving the way it felt on his finger. Whenever he was missing Bad or questioning himself, he would glance down at the silver band, the coolness on his skin reminding him that he had found someone that would be with him through this lifetime and all the next lifetimes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his phone, the familiar ringtone disrupting Sapnap from continuing any further on the subject of Bad’s sickness. Skeppy pulled his phone from his pocket, all eyes on him as he read over the caller id. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Bad,” he mumbled, swiping the screen to accept the incoming call. He lifted the phone to his ear, muttering a soft ‘hello’ to him. He heard the way Alex and George were snickering from behind him, but Skeppy ignored it to focus on Bad’s voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Skeppy…” Bad started, his voice coming out as more of a rasp than anything else. Skeppy narrowed his eyes as they trained onto Sapnap and Dream. Why had Sapnap known about Bad being sick before him? Skeppy knew they were close friends and Bad was in no way required to tell him everything (even if Skeppy wanted him to tell him everything that was on his mind. So goddamn much). He still felt a slight pang of jealousy hit him, brushing it away right after.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their friendship didn't hinder Skeppy’s friendship with Bad in the slightest, but he just would’ve liked to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Skeppy asked, wincing as the second bell rang, indicating that if you weren't in class that you were late, and apparently, all the teachers were late today. They all seemed far more interested in Skeppy’s boy troubles than their teaching responsibilities. He grimaced at the thought, trying to pretend that all of their eyes weren't trained on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh? Yeah, of course I am. I was just gonna ask if you could pick up some things for me after you get off of work,” Bad rasped through the speaker. Skeppy nodded to himself, fully aware that Bad couldn't hear him and he probably looked like an idiot to the group of men standing around him, staring him down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sapnap said you were sick.” Skeppy heard the way Bad sputtered on the other side of the call, seemingly struggling with a response to throw back at him. “Are you okay? Should you even be calling me? Shouldn't you be resting?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Skeppy, I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Sapnap is being a muffinhead. I think it’s just like, I don't know, an allergic reaction. Yeah,” Bad said, his voice less than convincing. Skeppy had been friends with Bad for too long to believe that. The way he spoke was an obvious indicator of his lie and Skeppy didn't even feel the need to point it out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can bring meds and stuff for you, if that's what you want. I'm assuming that's what you were going to ask for anyway,” Skeppy said, trying to tune out the whispering from Dream to Sapnap that wasn't really whispering. Skeppy heard their voices clearly, the teasing remarks thrown between them as Skeppy’s protests died in his throat. There wasn't a point in arguing it, really.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Skeppy, my man, can I talk to Bad real quick? It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>important!” Alex shouted. Bad was clearly able to hear him with the volume of his voice because Skeppy heard the little sounds of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>hrnnn </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the other end. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My</span>
  </em>
  <span> man.” Bad’s little mumble was indeed picked up through the mic when Skeppy knew that definitely wasn't his intention. Skeppy felt his face heat up, the small comment making him feel light and floaty just by the thought. Of course, Skeppy was his man, and Bad was his. In the most platonic way possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Call him yourself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Quackity</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Skeppy said, shooting him a glare. It wasn't malicious, but Skeppy wouldn't deny the hint of jealousy that lingered whenever he saw Alex joking around with Bad. He never would’ve thought he would get jealous over his best friend being close with people besides himself, but there he was. Getting all bothered over his friend being his extroverted self and being friendly with people besides himself. There wasn't even a reason to be jealous. Bad wasn't even here at the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex feigned hurt, wrist attached to his forehead in the dramatic ways of acting one would see in a low budget drama tv show. Skeppy just ignored him again, focusing again on his conversation with Bad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy excused himself, walking away from the group that had finally disbanded to go off and teach their classes. He walked down the hallway, legs moving faster than ever before as he raced to reach his car, just hoping that he could make it to the pharmacy at a reasonable time and get to Bad as swift as possible. Bad was still rambling through the speaker as Skeppy started up the engine of his car. Skeppy cursed it for being so loud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What- Skeppy! You’re at </span>
  <em>
    <span>work</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I said after!” Bad shouted, falling into a fit of coughs after the statement. The coughs were muffled, but Skeppy could still hear them even if Bad didn't want him to. Skeppy ignored the shouting protests of Bad from the other end of the phone, focusing on the road and attempting to take the fastest route to the pharmacy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad, it’s fine. Karl can cover for me!” Skeppy said, knowing that he'd done it many times before. He felt a little bad for it, but Skeppy appreciated it and he definitely felt like he showed it when he could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still. You can't just- you’re such a muffinhead,” Bad whispered. Skeppy laughed, parking the car in the closest available spot at the pharmacy. He pulled out his airpods, the call transferring to the speakers of the earbuds. Skeppy shoved his phone in his pocket, rushing to the automatic doors of the pharmacy. He listened as Bad listed out what he needed (even if he still sounded slightly annoyed with him for ditching work). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy was in and out in record time, stumbling over his feet as he rushed to unlock the car door again, a white plastic bag hanging from his wrist. He shook the bag off into the passenger’s seat, starting up the car once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy tried not to speed, but the idea of it was tempting him with seeing Bad faster. He couldn't bear to imagine the image of Bad laying in bed, sick as he attempted to speak clearly with his sore throat and repeated coughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy tapped his foot repeatedly as he sat at red light after red light, the impatient feeling filling him to the brim. His eyes wandered about the scene, scanning the towering apartment building right up the street that he knew to be Bad’s. He bit his lip, watching the bright red color burn into him, waiting for the moment that it would flash green instead of the eye burning red color that it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, what seemed to be years had passed and Skeppy was flying into the parking lot of the apartment building. He pulled into the nearest empty spot, his car screeching to a stop. Bad’s voice was still singing through his airpods as he went on about some nonsense he had witnessed from Puffy and Niki’s newfound friendship. Skeppy wasn't really listening, having heard the story firsthand from Niki only hours after it occurred.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can't believe you’re coming here instead of working,” Bad mumbled as Skeppy bolted towards the large glass doors that opened up to the building. Skeppy had never felt so impatient waiting for an elevator before, but it was beginning to feel even longer than having to wait for the red light to turn green. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine. That doesn't matter to me when you’re dying!” Skeppy shouted, the elevator doors sliding open, a group of people revealed from behind. They sent him odd looks, but walked past him as Skeppy shamefully entered the elevator, embarrassment creeping up his spine. He could feel Bad’s annoyance through the call.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm not dying, Skeppy. I think I just caught a little cold. Once I take some sleeping meds and can get some rest, I'll feel ten times better,” Bad said. Skeppy knew that, of course. He was just being overly dramatic, because he wanted to see Bad so desperately that if he didn't see his face within the next couple seconds, he would simply combust on the spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bad’s door was too far down the hallway, inconveniently located at the end. It was the last door in the hallway, which gave his room pretty decent privacy for an apartment with so many people, but Skeppy was finding it to be an incredible annoyance currently. He just wanted to see Bad now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy pulled out his key and shoved it into the lock, turning it the wrong way from being overwhelmed by the need to see Bad. The familiar red room filled his vision, the chipped paint always the first thing he saw when entering. The tv was on, but the sound was muted as it played reruns of old tv shows that Skeppy could only remember vaguely from his childhood. Bad wasn't in sight, but he could hear the echo from through the apartment as it lined up with his phone that was still on call. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of the call ending blared through his airpods, carefully slipping them back into the case resting beside his phone in his pocket. The container of muffins he had so carefully stacked inside the plastic pharmacy bag was moved to the kitchen island for him to gift to Bad shortly after he checked on his well being. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy walked down the hallway, entering the first door. Bad was huddled under every blanket he could’ve possibly had, hair barely peeking about the fluffy blankets that hid most of his body, the outline of his figure only visible if Skeppy was really looking. Bad’s phone poked out from under the covers, his hands just above the edge of the blankets to keep a steady grip on the phone </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His entrance hadn't stopped Bad from looking at whatever was on his phone, so Skeppy reached into the plastic bag to take out the meds he had picked up for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” Skeppy said, placing the bottle on the edge of Bad’s night stand. Skeppy’s mouth parted, a little gasp escaping his mouth as he saw Bad’s eyes peeking up at him, hair mussed up from presumably lying down for an extended amount of time. Bad hummed, mumbling incoherent words that Skeppy had interpreted as ‘thanks.’ “How are you feeling? Do you need anything else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bad shrugged, moving over in his spot so Skeppy had room to sit on the side of the bed. Skeppy took the hint, settling into the mess of blankets and pillows piled so how on the bed. The air conditioner was blaring through the room, completely contradicting the blankets Bad had so meticulously stacked up. Skeppy didn't really think to question it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M fine. A little sleepy, though,” Bad said. Bad’s hand reached for Skeppy. It was the hand that had the little silver band on it. It made Skeppy so happy to see it tucked around his ring finger. It was a little indication that Bad couldn't be swept up by someone else. His best friend was his best friend and no one would be able to steal him away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy accepted his hand, the way Bad’s fingers longed for him made him giddy, his body going weightless from the pressure of his fingers slipped in between his. Skeppy’s feet felt like they weren't touching the ground. He was running on air, stuck in an endless sky of clouds around him as he hopped to one after the other, Bad’s hand stuck in his the entire time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want the sleeping meds?” Skeppy asked, reaching over with his free hand to grab the bottle of pills he had just placed. Bad nodded, reaching over to steal the bottle away from Skeppy. A water bottle appeared from under the blankets beside Bad. He uncapped the bottle, dropping the pills on his tongue as the water washed away the little capsules that would soon help him get his much desired sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, for helping me out. I appreciate it,” Bad whispered, rubbing his eyes with obvious sleepiness. “You can leave whenever you want. You don't need to stay here with me. You should be working anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm not leaving you,” Skeppy said, his voice showing no sign of backing down against his words. There was nothing more important than Bad. Skeppy wouldn't leave Bad here on his own, lying alone in his apartment sick and stuck in bed. The thought made him upset. It was a simple cold, logically. Skeppy knew that and so did Bad. But Skeppy just wanted to be here with Bad and bask in the domestic bliss that came from spending time with Bad in his room. Alone in the unlit room with piles of blankets in pillows put between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bad didn't respond and Skeppy didn't blame him. He wasn't in the mood for a petty, yet lighthearted, argument at the moment. His sickness wasn't an ideal to have a conversation like that at the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I baked you muffins,” Skeppy said, watching as Bad perked up from his shelter of blankets he had been hiding under. His hand still clutched onto Skeppy’s like his life depended on it. He didn't show any sign of letting go any time soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you. When I'm feeling better, we should eat them together,” Bad suggested, and even if his lips were hidden underneath the covers, Skeppy knew he was smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy’s voice had died on him, opting instead to watch as Bad set his phone down to rest his eyes. He didn't think the pills had set in yet, but Bad seemed tired from a fairly evident lack of sleep. His eyes looked heavy, almost like Skeppy’s eyes as he strained to keep them open. It had been a struggle to stay awake for so long and do so many different things just to see the way Bad’s eyes smiled at him in their own drowsy ways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy listened as Bad’s breath evened out. The sound was music to his ears. His grip on his hand loosened up a bit, so Skeppy slipped away. He left Bad to rest for a little, knowing he would come back in no time at all. He really didn't want to leave Bad’s side, but he wanted to get something prepared for him when he awoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy knew muffins weren't an ideal meal for bad to indulge in while sick, so Skeppy scoured the cabinets for some soup, knowing Bad would be more than satisfied with that. It also seemed like a go to sick meal and Skeppy wasn't some master chef. He couldn't compare to Bad’s cooking skills, considering Skeppy lived off of mostly take out meals and delivery. He laughed at the thought, knowing Bad would chew him out if he heard him mention his constant ordering of fast food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soup was fairly easy for even Skeppy to cook, finishing up in no time at all. Skeppy set it down to cool, find a container to keep it in until Bad awoke, knowing he could just heat it up whenever that would be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the soup was set next to the container of muffins, Skeppy walked back to Bad’s room to check on his sleep. Bad was completely passed out, clutching a pillow to his chest like his life depended on it. Skeppy smiled at the sight, moving back to his empty spot on Bad’s bed. Soft snores left Bad’s slightly parted lips, closely nuzzling his head into the pillow stuck in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy’s heart was pounding against his chest, the unbearable need to stay here with Bad clouding his thoughts. He just wanted to lay there beside him, but there wasn't a way he could ask if that was allowed. His smile fell into a frown as he kicked his feet on the hardwood floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy had to turn his body to see Bad, watching the peaceful sight as he listened to his soft noises. His hand moved on its own accord, finding itself a place on Bad’s cheek. Skeppy grimaced, retracting his hand so fast it had been like the moment had never happened. In Skeppy’s mind now, it hadn't happened. It was something that would stay locked up in the chamber of other embarrassing things he did. Something he would only be able to think about late at night in his room, alone in the dark with these weightless moments he had with Bad haunted his thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy found himself lying down, leaving enough room between himself and Bad that seemed acceptable. They had shared a bed multiple times before, so it shouldn't have been an issue. Yet, Skeppy felt waves of emotions tumble over him, crushing him like the tsunami of emotions that they were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was so much space in between them. The pillow Bad was holding put an extra bit of space between them. It was unbearable, being unable to feel Bad’s warmth on him. He wanted to push away the pillow, take that spot beside him. But Skeppy didn't. He just watched the way Bad’s face buried even further into the plush pillow in his possession. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy fell asleep to the blaring air conditioner and Bad’s snores humming him to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Skeppy… Get up,” Bad said, pushing Skeppy out of the sleep he had fallen victim to. He had no plans to fall asleep while he was meant to be caring for Bad, but his lack of sleep in the past 24 hours had gotten the best of him. Bad was right up against him, the pillow that had previously held the space between them was discarded somewhere in the room. Skeppy’s eyes locked onto Bad’s as he stared up at him. Bad’s hand had reconnected to Skeppy’s hand, probably at some point after Bad had woken up. The way his touch made him feel warm and fuzzy had Skeppy feeling embarrassed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re such a muffinhead. I thought you were supposed to be taking care of me?” Bad asked, laughing when Skeppy shot up from his lying position. His hand stayed in Bad’s, loving the way it made him feel so at ease.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… stayed up making those muffins for you,” Skeppy said, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. If Bad noticed his blushing, he didn't mention it. His facial expression was soft as he stared at Skeppy. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“I appreciate that, but you shouldn't be sacrificing your health for me,” Bad said, his voice sounding a lot less raspy. He was still letting out some occasional coughs, but he seemed to be looking a lot better. “And thanks for the soup. It was really good.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Skeppy wasn't fully awake, so the statement confused him for only a minute. “Oh, yeah. You’re welcome. I'm glad it wasn't terrible.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>The silence fell over them once again, but it really wasn't bothering either of them. Bad’s hand was still intertwined with his and their closeness was sure to cause Skeppy to catch whatever Bad had. He already knew he was going to wake up tomorrow with a sore throat and a nasty cough, but it was worth it if it meant he could spend time with Bad and he was feeling better. Skeppy would get sick for Bad anyday.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you feeling a little better?” Skeppy asked, following Bad as he stood from the bed. Bad nodded, leading them towards the door of his bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, a little,” Bad said, moving to close the curtains to his window. Skeppy’s eyes were trained on their intertwined hands. He watched them as they hung beside them, keeping them connected even when they weren't lying beside each other any more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you wanna try those muffins I made for you? They’re chocolate chip,” Skeppy said, watching as Bad turned away from the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, I’d love to,” Bad said, leading him to the kitchen. The muffins were where Skeppy had left them, right on the counter next to the now empty bowl of soup Skeppy had prepared for Bad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The muffins were pretty good. Skeppy had already tried them when he had stayed up all night making sure they were as perfect as possible for Bad. It was reassuring that Bad seemed to be enjoying them. It was worth it to see the way his face lit up as he took a bite into the muffin that crumbled ever so slightly after Bad had set it down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for coming, Skeppy. You know you mean a lot to me, right?” Bad said, smiling over at him from across the island counter. There was a spot of chocolate splotched right above Bad’s lip, and instead of telling Bad where it was, Skeppy reached over himself. His finger swiped across his upper lip. Bad’s eyes traced his fingers movements, watching as the chocolate disappeared from Bad’s face. It left a smudge on Skeppy’s finger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy saw how Bad’s face turned red, presumably from embarrassment. Skeppy had done it out of nowhere so he would be embarrassed too. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“I would always come if you needed me. Always,” Skeppy said, letting the raw emotion flow from his words. He had to pause as he watched the way Bad’s face lit up. Skeppy knew Bad would always be there for him too. “That's… that's what friends are for.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>If Skeppy saw the way Bad’s face fell (which he definitely did but refused to acknowledge it) then he didn't mention it. He couldn't. Mentioning it would lead to something and Skeppy didn't know what this something but he didn't want to face it. Not when he barely understood what that meant from Bad. Not when he didn't understand what it meant from himself.</span></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so. uh i think its obvious what my favorite ship is lmaoo the skephalo chapters are always longer than the other ones because i enjoy writing them soo much. its my comfort ship, and both bad and skeppy are my comfort ccs anyway so like. uh. yeah. trying to come up with more karlnap ideas before i just drop the banger chapter i have planned for them. its a banger i promise you. i thought of it while half asleep and karl posted this tweet that had me just. ugh i swear its gonna slap.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. dream and george don't know self control (dnf)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>title says it all. children get scarred.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>theres nothing actually nsfw in this (i dont plan for there to be any in this fic actually) but they do like, uh, get c l o s e. just letting you know.</p>
<p>i suck at updating lmao. ive been trying to get good at bedwars and work on my aim in fps games. but heres something. i have this idea for a karlnap/skephalo thing idk which itll be more focused on but i kinda wanna try and focus on both of their relationships. this is just a cute little one shot of dream and george being dumb and scarring children :) (no children were actually scarred in the making of this though).</p>
<p>also im rusty at writing like anything relationship wise like idk affectionate stuff. never been good at it but im just rusty in general. i had no plan going into this i literally bullshitted like the entire thing. hope it isnt complete shit lol.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Dream, stop. Oh my god,” George muttered. He didn't actually want Dream to stop, but the bell would start to ring in approximately five minutes. His next class would be rushing through the doors soon and George didn't need his entire class to walk in on him and Dream doing, well, whatever this was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream’s hand was on his thigh as they sat side by side at George’s desk. His head was resting on George’s shoulder, lips pressed against George’s neck. He was attacked with an influx of kisses, and in any other situation, George would have been fine with it. He actually would love it. If they were alone and not in the position of being caught, then it would’ve been fine and dandy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the loud ticking clock rang in his ear, counting down the minutes to his class next class. His mind raced at the fear and adrenaline of being caught, giggling as Dream’s lips traced his neck. He gave him a light push, but Dream’s lips stayed attached at his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, George. We still have time,” Dream whispered, his words vibrating against George’s neck. The feel of his breath made George squirm, the hot air sending shivers down his spine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My class gets here in five minutes, Dream. Stop it,” George said, the shove bringing him nowhere, as Dream’s actions never once deterred from his actions. George sighed as Dream’s teeth ground into his neck, a small noise reminiscent of a moan escaping his mouth. He felt the smirk of Dream’s lips against him as he bit down, bound to leave a bruise in its place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one will walk in. Five minutes is enough time,” Dream mumbled, finally detaching from George’s neck, only to reattach at the curve connected George’s neck and shoulder, pulling the collar of his shirt down to expose the pale skin. George respectfully disagreed with him, but he let Dream continue on anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re such an asshole,” George whispered, eyes shooting towards the door. He was filled with paranoia, knowing that someone would be walking through the door to the classroom at any moment to catch them in such a compromising position. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re too cute,” Dream said, laughing as his mouth left his neck, admiring the bright marks that littered his neck. George pulled up the collar of his button up shirt, knowing it wouldn't cover the marks Dream had left farther up on his skin. He cursed at it, pressing his fingers into where he felt the mark that had been left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You suck! I can't hide these before my class starts!” George said, hissing as he pressed his fingers into the bruised skin once again. Dream stared at him, looking amused at George’s panic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re fine, George. No one will even notice. Just…” Dream reached for his collar, pulling it up to cover up his neck. George sighed, pushing Dream’s hands off of him with reluctance. Dream smirked at him, leaning back in his chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Asshole,” George muttered, crossing his arms but also moving closer to Dream as much as he possibly could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You love me,” Dream said, laughing as George refused to respond and simply looked away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George should have been paying attention to the ticking clock like he had been before, but Dream was so distracting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of the door creaking open would have almost gone unheard to George’s ears if he hadn't heard the small gasp of breath from that direction. Dream’s hands were already back on him, and the way their chairs were pushed together was a clear sign that something was going on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I early?” he said, eyes turning to the clock that George had been so closely watching. Time had ticked by without him noticing somehow and it was indeed time for his class to begin. It was almost past the time where students would be late (not that George cared enough to mark them as such).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream stood from his chair, removing himself from George, but it had already been too late. “Hi, Purpled. How’d you do on the stats homework? Any, uh, questions?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Purpled’s face held no sign of recognition for the scene that was once before him. He cleared his throat instead, tightening the grip on his textbook under his arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had no trouble with it. Well, actually. Problem four was weird, so if you could check it over with me during class later I’d appreciate that,” Purpled replied, taking his usual seat that was positioned in a small group with three other desks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, I can do that. I’ll… head out now,” Dream said, nodding his head to Purpled before slipping back into his classroom through the connected doors. Purpled went to say something, but George quickly cut him off with his own words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't. Don’t. I’ll give you extra credit for the rest of the semester, just don't say it,” George said, signing into his hands as his head fell into their hold. The door barged open once again as his students began to file in. George couldn't look at Purpled for the rest of the class. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not again, is what George was thinking, but he didn't say it. Because, would he actually stop Dream? No, even if he should have learned his lesson the last time when Purpled had arrived to class on time like a good student. And George was just being an awful teacher, tucked away in the back of the auditorium with Dream on top of him. Neither of them had a class to teach. It was after hours and George should have been grading papers like the good teacher he is, but right now, after not being able to see Dream as often in his classroom due to exams, George wanted to be here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt adrenaline rush through his body when Dream’s hands touched his skin. They were cold, probably from the blasting air conditioning that the school refused to put in classrooms and only put in specific offices and the auditorium. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George wasn't sure why they didn't just go to one of their places or even out on a date. They probably would after they left the school, but right now, they were at the mercy of getting caught again on school grounds. It was probably due to impatience on both of their parts. Dream was usually pretty patient, able to act calm and collected when needed, but George must be able to take out a side of him that acted on impatience and instinct. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George smiled into the kiss, light and feathery. It was such a soft moment and George didn't want it to end anytime soon. The rush and airy feeling overwhelmed him in so many ways, his body going limp against the back of the chair. Dream’s hand met his, intertwining their fingers together, Dream’s other hand rested against his hip, his finger moving in a circular motion against his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hands were frozen against his skin, making him shiver and giggle against him, but Dream didn't seem to mind it much. He hummed against George’s lips as he moved back, locking their eyes together. George pushed his hands against Dream’s chest to push him back, but Dream stayed locked in place, watching as George’s eyes moved back down to his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George grabbed the collar of Dream’s button up shirt, pulling him back down so their lips could meet once again. Dream didn't protest, relaxing into the chaste kiss George had pulled him into.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, you’re hot,” Dream uttered within the few seconds that he pulled away from George’s lips. His lips were back on his almost instantly, the light chappedness of Dream’s lips moving against George’s. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“Shut up,” George muttered in between Dream’s chaste kisses. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“Don't even try to deny it,” Dream said, moving the hand on George’s hip up to his waist. George smirked, letting his hand fall down Dream’s chest to the hem of his shirt. His hand went to move up, when the loud doors of the auditorium fell open, the loud laugh of Karl echoing through the room. They both froze, knowing that they should move apart, but neither of them able to move an inch. The frozen shock and the actual frozen temperature of the room impaired their reaction time, because Karl and Ranboo came tumbling through the doors. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't mind you asking for help, Ranboo! You’re a great student so I'm always happy to give you a hand!” Karl said, eyes slower than Ranboo’s curious eyes as they fell on Dream and George crowded into the tight auditorium chairs. Both George and Dream stared back at him with guilty eyes, neither moving a muscle as if their stillness would hide them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m blind. I'm just blind,” Ranboo said, hands covering his eyes. He turned his back to them, Karl still oblivious to the scene since he was too busy looking at Ranboo. He finally turned away, spotting the scene that Ranboo had become blind to.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“What the honk guys? Get a room,” Karl yelled, shielding his eyes away from them, blocking the view even more from Ranboo. “At school guys, really?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Uh, sorry?” Dream said, finally removing himself from George and sitting beside him. “You want our help with anything?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Karl rolled his eyes with a groan, letting Ranboo know he can unblind himself.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’d appreciate some help. Skeppy is ditching me a lot lately. I'm not sure where he's been disappearing to but I'm about to put him on paperwork duty,” Karl said with a light laugh. Ranboo finally moved his hands away and waved at them, moving towards the stage of the auditorium.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just need help editing some shots I got with Tubbo and Tommy. They weren't much help,” Ranboo said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They do really well in the class when they try, but they’re always messing around,” Karl said, setting up his laptop and plugging the usb in. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“It’s just Tommy and Tubbo. That’s how they are sometimes,” Ranboo said, shrugging his shoulders. Ranboo pulled up the shots he wanted to edit for his video and began to talk it over with Dream and Karl. George stood beside them and watched. He didn't think Ranboo needed three people to help him edit his film project shots. “They’re still passing though.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“They’re good students, they just… Their last project was… interesting.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>George didn't even want to know.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The dark bags under Dream were what George had noticed first thing on a Monday morning. Even with the largest size coffee in his hands, he was still moping around George’s classroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George watched over his classroom as they worked on their unit test. First class of the day was usually a loud one, one that would wake anyone up if they even walked near it, but because Tommy and Tubbo were too engaged with their testing, the room was dead silent. George was a bit sleepy as well, but not as much as Dream, who had already downed more than half of his coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You good there, Dream?” George said, walking with him into Dream’s classroom. He was sure they would get up to something while he disappeared, but George was less than concerned about them when Dream was practically about to pass out from lack of sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was up all night grading papers,” Dream said, voice slow as he talked. George nodded, not fully convinced but he wasn't about to push it when Dream sounded practically dead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go home then. I'm sure they can get someone to sub your classes for you,” George said, watching as Dream sat down on the floor, leaning up against the wall. George moved to sit beside him, pulling his phone out to text Bad to watch his class for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I just need to finish my coffee and I’ll be fine, babe,” Dream said, eyes shut as he spoke in a soft voice. George hummed, putting his phone back in his pocket and reaching over to pull Dream down towards him. Dream’s head landed on George’s thighs, eyes still fallen shut. His coffee cup was forgotten beside him, mostly full of water from the melted ice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dream, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” George said, tapping him on the top of his head. Dream groaned, burying his face into George’s thighs. George was more than content with Dream using him as a pillow for at least the rest of the period, but Dream did have a class soon and George felt bad making Bad watch his class for the entire period. But it was also cute to see Dream dozing off right next to him. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“Hm,” Dream mumbled, the rest of his sentence unheard to George’s ears. </span><span><br/></span> <span>George threaded his fingers through Dream’s hair, watching the way he subconsciously moved into George’s touch. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re cute,” George whispered, ruffling up Dream’s hair. He groaned, but didn't stop George from ruining his hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George took out his phone, scrolling through his messages with one hand and combing through Dream’s hair with the other. Bad replied with an ‘owo’ (cringe, George had thought when it popped up on his screen) but George assumed that it meant ‘okay’ in Bad language. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George started messaging Ant when the door from his classroom peaked open, revealing Sapnap on the other side of the door. Sapnap rolled his eyes at them, leaving the door open as he stood in the doorframe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re having Bad cover your class so you can do this?” Sapnap laughed, but George knew full well Sapnap would ditch his own classes to spend time with Karl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't start,” George said, putting a finger to his lips to shush Sapnap. He didn't want Dream to wake up and ruin his morning even more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Nap, can you send a message to Mr. Punz for me-” Tubbo said, pushing his way to the door frame beside Sapnap. George froze as Tubbo’s eyes landed on them, staring for only a second at them on the floor, then back at Sapnap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just pretend you’re blind!” George heard Ranboo’s voice coming from his classroom. He watched as Tubbo shielded his eyes from them and continue talking to Mr. Nap about some video game. </span>
</p>
<p><span>George shook his head. They really didn't try to hide their relationship at this point. The whole school knew about them at this point, so who really cared?</span><span><br/></span> <span>Sapnap and Tubbo left the room, shutting the door behind them. The room fell silent again. George placed a kiss on the top of Dream’s head, smiling as he set a timer so he could wake Dream up in time for his own class.</span></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. i don't know how to say this (karlnap)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>karl and sapnap have a cute little date :)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>its 1:30am and i have a stomach ache ahhhhhh i tried so hard ive been spending so much time with friends and work and school. i hope you guys dont hate me for being lazy ill do my best. i got a couple ideas lined up for you guys. we got dnf and skephalo, along with some of tubbo and tommy's platonic friendship coming. just wait ill do my best. :)</p>
<p>karlnap meetup. crying. also the corpsekkuno meetup. still crying over that. i cant i cant i cant T_T</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tired and running off of caffeine made it hard for Sapnap to pay attention. Tommy and Ranboo were arguing (well, it was mostly Tommy yelling and Ranboo awkwardly laughing) and Tubbo was watching from the sidelines. It was starting to piss him off, but he kept his composure pretty well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The daily coffee he had gotten from Dream was delicious and it helped him slightly, but he still wasn't fully awake. The sweet taste of the sugary coffee filled his mouth once again, dreading when the drink would be left empty. He set it down on the bleachers, watching as Tommy had finally stopped yelling at Ranboo and had gone back to playing their game of dodgeball, since Sapnap was too tired to watch over any other games that would require his full attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doors to the gym creaked open, a head of fluffy brown hair peeking through the crack of the door. Sapnap stared over with half opened eyes, picking up his coffee again and chugging it down like his life depended on it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Jacobs! Hey!” Ranboo shouted just as a plush ball collided with the side of his head. He stumbled back from the pressure and moved to the side to meet the teacher.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Ranboo! How are you doing on that homework I assigned?” Karl stood beside Ranboo, looking small beside him, even though Karl wasn't short by any means and was practically the same height as Sapnap himself. Ranboo was simply just a giant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, honestly? I had no clue how to do it. I know we discussed it a bit in class but if we could go over it… again?” Ranboo said, earning a smile from Karl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can do that during class tomorrow!” Sapnap slumped over on the bleachers, waiting for Karl to finish his conversation with Ranboo. Once a new round started, Ranboo ran back to his side of the gym, and Karl moved over to Sapnap.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“What's up?” Sapnap asked as Karl took a seat beside him. Karl reached into the bag he had with him, pulling out a monster. He handed it over to Sapnap with a grin and Sapnap gladly accepted it. “You brought me a monster?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Dream said you were tired. Were you up all night?” Karl asked. Sapnap stared into his eyes, admiring how bright they looked under the white lights of the gym. His hair was fluffy and untamed, looking like he had just rolled out of bed and hadn't bothered to brush it down.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, I guess. I was up all night talking to Bad. Boyfriend problems,” Sapanap said with an exasperated laugh. Bad been ranting to him about what to get Skeppy as a gift, something about how much their ‘friendship’ rings meant to him. Sapnap didn't feel like he was being much help, since Bad rejected any idea he threw at him, saying it wasn't ‘elaborate’ enough. He might as well buy Skeppy a whole ass house, but he probably would say that wasn't enough either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did he and Skeppy fight?” Karl asked, tilting his head to the side. Sapnap shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he wants to get him a present… Do you have any ideas? He shot down all of mine,” Sapnap replied, cracking open the large can of monster that Karl had gotten for him. Karl shrugged, picking at the chipped purple nail polish he was wearing. Sapnap reached over to grab his hand, pulling his fingers away from his other hand to stop him from picking at them. Sapnap kept his hand on Karl’s, distracted by the warmth he felt when touching him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karl didn't pull away, letting Sapnap fold his fingers around his hand. Sapnap used his other hand to lift the monster to his lips, trying to distract himself from the burning feeling of Karl being close to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He should just take him out on a date. It’s just overdue at this point,” Karl said. Sapnap had to agree with that one, but any time they hung out was basically a date even if neither of them would admit it. Sapnap may be dumb when it comes to his own feelings, but it was far too easy to tell that Skeppy and Bad had a connection that was deeper than friendship, and even deeper than romantic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sapnap felt the same about his feelings for Karl. The connection that they had was something a little different than friends, even if it was exactly romantic either. Karl just made him feel right and the burning passion was something that easily pushed him over every edge. He didn't have to hear Karl’s feelings in words. He knew that he could feel their connection too. He didn't want to push Karl and wanted to let him take whatever they had at his own pace,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad could never. It’ll take them a while. You know Dream and George made a bet on them? Pretty sure George is gonna win that one,” Sapnap said.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Me and you should go on a date,” Karl said. Sapnap almost choked on the sip of the monster he had just gulped down, falling over on himself in his seat. Karl looked over at him in concern, eyes lighting up when Sapnap leaned over his spot. “Oh, if you’re not comfortable with that then-”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Please, </span><em><span>yes</span></em><span>,” Sapnap said, cringing at his desperateness. He wanted to curl in on himself when he saw the way Karl looked at him in surprise. He coughed, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I’d be down to go on a, uh, date.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Karl giggled, covering his mouth with his hand. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect,” Karl said, continuing to laugh at Sapnap’s response. The embarrassment didn't fade even slightly, watching Karl’s addicting smile spread across his face. His hand cupped over his mouth and his messy hair fell over his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Um, you free at seven?” Sapnap said, face flushed bright red as Karl stared at him under the mop of hair in his face. Karl nodded, hand still connected to his face to muffle his intoxicating laughter. “Great. We should hang at my house and order food. Or whatever.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Karl seemed pleased with the proposition. Sapnap downed a gulp of the monster, giving himself the energy to stay awake. He had plans for a nap after his last class in preparation for their date. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sapnap woke up from a nap fifteen minutes before the clock hit seven. His eyes were fluttering open and shut from the drowsiness as he rushed to set up his tv and grab some drinks from the fridge. He knew Karl could show up any second and he didn't want to be under prepared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He placed two glasses of iced tea on the coffee table along with a freshly popped bowl of buttered popcorn. He reached for his phone in the pocket of his black sweatpants, contemplating what Karl would like for dinner. Sapnap decided that some dinner from the local family restaurant that he always went to would do, ordering them both some burgers, using his past knowledge of eating out with Karl to list out how he liked it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as Sapnap had finished putting in the order for delivery, a loud knock came from the direction of his front door. Sapnap straightened out his shirt and took a long sip of his own iced tea, stirring the straw around the melting ice. He ran towards the door, swinging it open to reveal Karl Jacobs, wrapped up in a dark green, striped sweater and a pair of tan pants that were cuffed at the bottom. His hair was even fluffier than earlier, slightly damp at the ends, presumably from showering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Sap,” Karl said, inviting myself in with a soft smile. Sapnap nodded back at him, feeling slightly self conscious at the fact that he hadn't prepared to wear something nicer than the clothes that he had slept in, clothes that didn't even belong to him. He had stolen one of Dream’s many smiley face sweatshirts, a black one that fell past his fingertips from it being a size too big and black sweatpants that he had no idea who they belonged to. He assumed they were also Dream’s, but they were a bit short, which led him to believe that they could be George’s or something. He wasn't necessarily sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, uh, brought my makeup and nail polish…” Karl said, letting the words out slowly as he held up a little black bag. A few bottles of polish and some makeup products stuck out from the unzipped bag lifted up in his arms. Sapnap stared at the foreign products, then at Karl’s nails that were cleanly wiped of the polish he had on them earlier. “I was thinking after we ate we could do each other's nails or something... If you’re comfortable, of course!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sapnap had never thought of painting his nails. It had never been something that had crossed his mind, but Sapnap couldn't say that he was opposed to the idea. He told Karl to leave the bag on the kitchen counter and they moved over to the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I order burgers for us and I set up Mario Kart for us while we wait,” Sapnap said, turning on the old Wii system. Karl fell down on the couch, Sapnap following to sit beside him. Mario Kart Wii loaded up on the tv, the Mario Kart music blaring through the speakers. Sapnap passed a Wii remote to Karl, the purple one with a broken wrist piece.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who do you main?” Karl asked, hovering over Yoshi. Sapnap instantly moved his cursor to Bowser.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bowser, of course. The only option,” Sapnap said jokingly, waiting for Karl to lock in as Yoshi. They chose their karts and played the first cup, since Karl mentioned it had been a while since they had played. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How the fuck are you so good at this?” Sapnap said, placing third place in the last place. He had gotten top three each race, but only first place one race, because Karl was absolutely dominating him with his three first place races and one second place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Chris and I used to play this all the time back when we roomed together in college. I'm not a big fan of going out so we’d just play Mario Kart instead,” Karl explained, just as Sapnap’s phone had blared his annoying ringtone that their food had been placed at the door for them. Sapnap grabbed his half empty iced tea and ran to the door, bringing the bag inside for them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope I got your order right,” Sapnap said, reaching into the brown paper bag to pull out the boxes stuffed with fries and their burgers. Karl accepted the box and they sat down at the table together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Karl said, and nothing else before they silently dug into their burgers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sapnap ate his final fry, watching as Karl had just taken the last bite of his burger and was now moving on to eating some more of his own fries. Sapnap stood to wash his hands and dispose of his trash. Karl stared him down, chewing on one end of his fry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is something wrong? Is there something on my face?” Sapnap asked, feeling at one side of his face, and then the other to check for something on his face. Karl shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just wondering if you were comfortable with doing each other’s nails. Sorry if I’m being annoying by asking,” Karl said, shrinking in his seat. Sapnap shook his head, scratching the side of his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it’s with you, I don't really mind. I bet it’ll look cool. Do you have black?” Sapnap asked, reaching over for the black bag that Karl had set on the counter. Karl’s face instantly lit up, discarding the remainder of his fries to dig through his bag. He pulled out a bottle of black polish, twisting open the cap. The brush was pure black, dripping in the paint from the bottle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sapnap moved them over to the living room, pushing back the couch and opting to sit on the floor. He changed the tv channel to play some old cartoons, setting a low volume so that it wouldn't interrupt conversation, but loud enough so they could hear it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re really good at this,” Sapnap said, watching as Karl perfectly painted over his pinky finger, not getting any of the paint on his skin. He moved onto each finger, only getting a little bit of the paint on his skin when he was painting his thumb. He easily wiped it off with his own finger though.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“I have a lot of practice,” Karl said, finishing up his last finger. “I have to do two coats, but we have to let it dry.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Two? Why? I think it came out fine, no?” Sapnap said, holding his hand up in the light to examine his hands.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust me. It’ll look better. Oh, and this,” Karl pulled out a clear bottle, setting it beside the open black polish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn't think nail polish was so complicated,” Sapnap admitted. Karl shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not. I don't have to do a second layer… Do you wanna paint my nails,” Karl suggested, holding out his hands for Sapnap. Sapnap reached for Karl’s hands, careful not to smudge his own polish. Karl’s hands were really warm, and felt really good against his own. Sapnap smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna be really bad,” Sapnap laughed. Karl shook his head, handing Sapnap a bottle of purple nail polish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine. I'm wearing purple tomorrow, so do this color,” Karl said, untwisting the bottle and leaving it in Sapnap’s hands. Sapnap took the brush, and followed how Karl had done his. He wiped the brush on the side of the opening, and moved it in the brushing pattern that Karl had, watching the paint stick to his thumb. Karl smiled at him in encouragement, even if Sapnap had gotten a lot of the purple paint on the skin around his nail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm sorry, this is so bad,” Sapnap said, trying to wipe away his mistakes with his finger like Karl had, but only ended up making it worse by spreading it across his skin. Karl giggled, using his other hand to cover his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so cute,” Sapnap whispered, feeling the embarrassment creep up on him because of words that he hadn't meant to say out loud. Karl’s face turned red, hand still covering his mouth from laughing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re cute too, Sapnap,” Karl said, removing his hand from his mouth so Sapnap could start painting it. Karl stared at Sapnap as he painted and Sapnap could feel his eyes on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What… are you thinking about?” Sapnap asked, hearing a gasp come from Karl as if he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“Well…” Karl started, trailing off as Sapnap moved onto painting Karl’s last unpainted nail. Sapnap waited, watching Karl stutter over his words. “I’ve been thinking. About… what we are? Like, this is a date, yeah?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Sapnap nodded, hoping his answer was okay with Karl. Karl let out a small sigh.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“And well, I like you. A lot. I’m just very, uh, hesitant. I’ve really thought a lot about myself, and, well, my sexuality and all,” Karl started, stopping himself midway through his sentence to regain his breath. Sapnap waited for him, handing Karl the black bottle of nail polish so Karl could do a second coat once his own nails dried. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s really complicated for me to label it, but like, I'm not really into all </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>stuff,” Karl started, making random hand movements that Sapnap couldn't really understand. “Um, what I’m trying to say is that I think I’m somewhere on the asexuality spectrum. So if you’re okay with that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sapnap looked up from his hands. To be honest, he wasn't expecting Karl to come out to him tonight, but he obviously was going to be supportive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, thank you for telling me,” Sapnap said, letting himself relax into the hold that Karl’s warm hands had on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re okay with that? I’m not sure what I can offer you or anything right now. That is, if you like me back,” Karl said, smiling as he untwisted the black nail polish bottle and pulled the brush out to begin the second layer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sapnap thought about it for a moment, because he knew he liked Karl. He liked him a lot. But it was such an extreme like that he wasn't sure he would be able to put it into words no matter how hard he tried. The pure passion that Karl lit in him was so aggressive and fiery that it burned him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like you a lot, too. A lot, a lot,” Sapnap said. Karl smiled as he continued to paint Sapnap’s nails. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really? You’re okay with that?” Karl asked, eyes lighting up at him. Sapnap nodded, wanting nothing more than to lean in and capture Karl’s lips with his own. His soft skin against his on the carpeted floor of Sapnap’s living room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m really glad we had this talk. Like, really,” Sapnap said, Karl having just finished the second layer of polish. He handed Sapnap the purple bottle of polish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, we’re sorta-boyfriends now?” Karl said. His hand never left Sapnap’s even when Sapnap began doing a second coat for Karl’s purple nails.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, boyfriends. Does this mean… Dream won the bet?” Sapnap asked, thinking back to what he was told a while ago about Dream and George’s bet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think George wins, actually. It’s been a while since they made that bet,” Karl said, watching the paint cover his nails. Sapnap shrugged, not too worried about their little bets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you wanna tell people? Or just take it slow?” Sapnap asked. He didn't want to do anything that Karl wouldn't be comfortable with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s just keep it a secret for now.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>